


Innocence Taken

by Alkuna



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Cats, Dogs, F/M, Kidnapping, Medicine Cats, Rogues (Warriors), SkyClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alkuna/pseuds/Alkuna
Summary: The Laws Of Peace were forged many seasons ago, agreed upon by the feral cats of the twoleg place, and the dogs who shared a border with them. Precious Translators, dogs and cats who speak the language of both, strive to keep the peace between the two species. Keeping the peace was easy... until three strangers kidnap a puppy and drive her into a distant gorge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Well, then,” the Cat went on, “you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.”  
> \--Cheshire Cat
> 
> Me: Or, in the eyes of the dog: a liar…
> 
> And thus begins my next story…

At first, everything was dark and still. Then the shadows began to move; the shadowy forms of cats left their various nests to follow their neighbors and clanmates. The darkness came alive with eyes that glowed with green and yellow fire.

As the cats raced along the walking paths and came together like streams joining a river, the darkness on the opposite side of the Big Thunderpath began to seethe. Paws moved soundlessly; not a single claw scratched or scraped. Tails straight behind, heads lowered, the much larger shadows paced the cats across the deadly path, where an occasional monster still roared past.

Then the first sound broke the stillness. A deep chested growl. It was answered by a hiss.

Looking down on the scene, a snow white German Shepherd glanced over at the smaller cat next to him. “Are you ready?”

The young cinnamon tabby glanced up at her mentor. “I hope so.” Her voice growled the deep words of the dog language.

“Then follow!”

The two creatures turned and sprinted along another path, circling wide and coming around to an empty field from a different angle.

The two groups, dog and cat, faced one another. Two lines had been drawn, each species on its own side, leaving an aisle of open space between them.

“Moonfang!” The speaker was a graceful she-cat, standing at the head of her line, “Is your pupil ready?”

“She is.” The white dog replied, the language of the cats sounding high and thin coming from his long muzzle. Then he turned to the line of dogs and growled, his voice properly deep for the dog tongue, “I have been asked if my pupil is ready. I have replied that she is.”

“Then begin,” The she-cat and the leader of the dog pack called in unison.

Moonfang bent his great head down and gave the cinnamon tabby a lick between the ears, “I believe you are ready. Now you must believe it as well.”

The young cat met her Guide’s eyes for as long as she could and still be polite and gave her tail a stiff, shy wag. Then she stepped into the aisle between the two species and began walking slowly between them, speaking the words in first one language, then the other.

“This night, we stand divided as our ancestors’ ancestors stood divided. This night, we face one another across the gap of language, of species, and of custom. This night I, Sweetfoot, tread my feet upon the lines that divide.” She swallowed as the eyes traced her route between the two clans. “And tonight, I sweep those lines aside. We meet. We greet. We enjoy peace.”

She had just reached the far end of the two lines and turned to face them all, standing alone. “Cats and dogs, it is Brightmoon.” Her eyes flicked upward at the full moon that was lifting above the line of twoleg nests that obscured the horizon. “Let us join!”

A heartbeat of silence pressed hard upon her ears, and then the two species came together; sniffing noses, wagging tails and purring warmly to their neighbors.

The two leaders came to meet Sweetfoot side by side, the long legged alpha dog shortening his stride so that his smaller companion did not have to run to keep up.

“Your voice was a song that lifted my heart.” The big dog rumbled, “I felt as though we were coming together for the first time, as our ancestors had.”

Sweetfoot’s ears warmed and she wagged her tail gratefully to him for his kind words.

“I must agree.” The she-cat meowed when her neighbor’s words were translated, “And I think you have earned your new name.”

Two clans turned and sat, side by side, to wait for the announcement. The two leaders drew away, leaving Sweetfoot alone in the silvery moonlight that frosted her fur.

“Standing before you is a Translator, a Voice, for the clans. It is through her knowledge and honesty that the clans unite. Sweetfoot, the truth can be an ugly thing. It can wound, cause strife and even endanger lives. Do you swear to adhere to it, even at the cost of your life?” Moonfang’s voice echoed over the silent clans, first in one language, and then the other.

“I swear it!”

“Then before both clans and the ancestors above, I give you your new name. From now until you join our ancestors, you shall be known as Sweetsong.” The massive dog lay flat upon the ground, lowering his head below his former pupil’s.

One by one, cats and dogs bowed their heads low. “Sweetsong!” Crooned voices in both languages. “Sweetsong!”

“The ancestors above shall set a task for you for your First Duty. This will set you on the path you will follow in their service.” Moonfang woofed. “Do not shrink from it, no matter how daunting it seems.” He sneezed, his version of a laugh, “You were, after all, trained by the best!”

“Now, the night is still young, and we have news to share. Sweetsong, if you would do the honors?”

Chest swelling, Sweetsong joined the leaders of the two clans, and shared gossip with her eagerly listening audience.


	2. Chapter 2

Nightrun wasn’t sure what woke her up at first. Her mother and father had left for a walk to stretch their legs. She stayed behind, having eaten a bit too much and feeling a bit sleepy. She wasn’t afraid of being alone; the nest was warm and safe behind scent markings.

It was this confusion that slowed her response to the sudden and alarming feeling that she was no longer alone and worse… no longer safe.

Pain shot through her soft ears, and she yelped shrilly. Surging to her feet, she found herself staring at three cats arranged in a circle around her. She had met one, once, and it had spoken to her parents in a high pitched version of her language. It had even been friendly toward her, and had greeted her in its strange, almost musical voice.

These cats smelled funny, and there was something cold in their eyes.

“What do you want?” she asked. “Are you lost? My parents can help you back to your territory.”

None of them answered. One of the cats was black and brown all over with a white chest. He opened his mouth, revealing sharp yellow teeth, and hissed loudly at her.

The sound sent a jolt of fear through her and she scrambled backward.

Now she could see the three of them a bit more clearly; the second was a white creature with pinkish-red eyes, and the third was a blue-gray in color with one blue eye and one green eye. The white cat snarled in a strange language and flicked out a paw.

Thorn sharp claws raked across her tender nose and she yelped again, fleeing to the back of the alleyway. Whining, she tenderly slid her tongue out to touch her stinging nose and tasted blood. She had never been hurt by another creature before. Pads could be cracked, claws could be torn. She had even scraped her nose on the walls of the twoleg nests when her unsteady puppy legs had sent her off balance. But this pain hurt more, and she struggled to understand why a cat would break the Laws Of Peace in such a way. Her parents had told her over and over that the Laws Of Peace made sure that everyone, puppies and kittens alike, were treated kindly.

The three hissed and snarled back and forth and at her, lashing and clawing and raking at her until she came to a place where a small hole bored through the wall.

No, this wasn’t fair! These cats were breaking those Laws! And they didn’t hesitate at all about it. This was wrong. She tried a growl to scold them. The answer was a blow to the side of her head that left her ears ringing and the world spinning.

Frightened, confused, and only wanting to get away, she squeezed through the hole. Not quite quick enough for them, obviously, as she felt those terrible claws sink into her tail. Squealing in protest she shot through the hole, feeling its ragged edges scrape her ribs.

The evil, red eyes of the white cat pursued her, blocking the way back to the warm nest where her parents would return… only to find their daughter gone.

. 

“Voice,” the words came in the curt, guttural growl of a dog, “We have need of you.”

Sweetsong shook the sleep from her eyes and padded quickly out of her den. It never did one any favors to make a dog wait. Dogs called her the Voice: the one who gifted truthful words to those who spoke in the Liar’s Tongue. Cats called her the Translator: the one who saw meaning in the Wordless Growls. No matter what either side called her, both sides treated her skills with awe and respect. That being said, returning that respect to both sides was just as important. Arrogant translators who mistreated the words meant to build bridges often found themselves in trouble with _both_ sides.

Sunlight spilled on her cinnamon tabby fur and she blinked hazel eyes, trying to clear them so she could get a good look at her visitors.The sight that met her sleep befuddled brain as she stepped into the light, however, was enough to shoot all thoughts of sleep out of her skull like a terrified bird out of a tree.

Two large dogs stared down at her, black noses quivering wetly in the early sunlight. The bigger one was reddish brown with black brindle. Both had deep, brown eyes with a piercing gaze that made old instincts scream at her to flee. He had pointed ears, a thick, straight tail, and a broad muzzle. The smaller was black as the deepest night; her ears were pointed too, but her thick tail was a little fluffier and her muzzle more delicate. Neither muzzle feature made their white teeth any less sharp or deadly.

Sweetsong made a hasty mental translation to the postures of the two beasts that looked down at her. Fur fluffed, legs stiff, hackles raised, tails up, heads lowered, and teeth bared. They were very angry, but the angle of their mouths also showed concern, and the fact that they weren’t locking eyes with her meant they were not inclined to take that anger out on her.

“Longclaw.” The big male introduced himself, and then swung his muzzle to the female, “Nightshade. We seek our daughter, Nightrun. She was taken by cats.”

A tiny quiver chorused through the translator’s body. “None of our cats would seize a puppy!” Sweetsong protested, horrified by the very thought of such a deed.

It would shatter the Laws Of Peace and result in many deaths to do something so heinous as take a youngster by force from either side. Only those with a gift for words were taken from either side at all, and always with permission and blessings.

Longclaw growled and his gaze fixated on the small tabby with the cold surety of a predator. “Doesn’t smell like your cats.” He allowed, “But is a cat anyway.”

“Please show me,” the translator pressed.

The two dogs grunted and turned, leading the she-cat through the maze of twoleg nests to the border of the dog territory. She hesitated for the briefest of heartbeats before hurrying to follow them. As a translator, she could go where she pleased as long as it was official duty. However, the borders had been laid down long before living memory, and crossing them still felt taboo.

The place where Nightrun had been was a typical dog lair; a narrow alley with rags dragged for nests and reeking of dog scent marks at the entrance.

The dim light between the nests made it hard to see, but once she was past the marks at the entrance, a wealth of information flooded her nose. Yes, there was the scent of a pup.

Concern flared up in the translator’s chest; the scent of milk was missing, and fresh kill had left its rich scent here time and again. If she was judging right, the missing pup was getting used to solid foods and playing. She still had no business traveling away from her mother’s side though. Rats were always a threat, and they liked the taste of kittens and puppies.

“Convinced Nightshade to run with me.” Longclaw admitted, and his tail and head hung with heavy guilt, “Wanted her to see the sun. We weren’t even gone longer than it takes to circle the pack of nests at a lope. When we came back, Nightrun was gone.”

Sweetsong processed this. Twoleg nests were positioned in groups. Circling them at the pace of a long legged dog would have taken mere minutes, especially if Nightshade had given her legs a good stretching run.

The sharp, tangy scent of surprise and then pain froze the she-cat in her tracks. Blood. Just a tiny bit, but blood nonetheless, had been spilled here. The rank smell of three strange cats circled inside the dimple in the nest where the puppy must have been dozing. From there, the trail ran deeper into the alley. Here, the brick wall had crumbled in the corner, leaving a small hole barely big enough for a cat to squeeze through. More pain and fear had happened here, a bit more blood, and strands of fine puppy fur had been pulled out by the raw edges of the brickwork.

So, they had worked quickly. Either by luck or by watching, they had come in while the parents were gone and had gone straight for the puppy. They had surprised her, and used their sharp claws to hurt and intimidate her into obeying them, even though she couldn’t understand their speech. More pain, possibly scratches at her tender little ears or tail, had forced the puppy to crawl through the hole to the other side of the alleyway. It would have taken precious time for the parents to circle the block again to get the other end of the scent trail. Instead, they had obviously come for her help. By now…

“Longclaw, Nightshade, circle the pack of nests!” Sweetsong called, “I will meet you on the other side!”

Getting through the hole required some careful squeezing without leaving her own fur on the brick, but it only slowed her down a few heartbeats. She was through and out the other side, and the trail turned at the walking path that flanked the thunderpath.

The cinnamon tabby sat down to wait and think. The puppy, while on solid foods, was definitely still young enough to be only as large as an adult cat, or maybe just a bit bigger. A growth spurt was sure to hit soon, and she would sprout in a matter of a quarter moon. Nightrun being driven out had a nasty sort of timing to it… young enough to bully and intimidate, old enough to drive away from the nest without needing milk to sustain her.

Even with the urgency in every line of the dogs’ bodies, precious minutes passed before they came loping around the corner. Spotting her immediately, they caught up in massive distance eating bounds. Once they were near she turned and padded along the scent trail until it became garbled and then overwhelmed by scent trail after scent trail of passing twolegs.

Bad sign.

Abruptly Longclaw growled, and was answered by an alarmed hiss.

A kittypet was perched on a fence surrounding his yard, and he glared down at the dogs with frightened, suspicious eyes. “Leave me alone! I’ve never left my yard! I’m not trespassing.”

“Hello!” Sweetsong called, “Did you see some strange cats with a puppy pass through here?”

The kittypet blinked, and then slowly sat down. “Why do you care?”

“Please, the puppy was taken from her parents against her will.”

Again the kittypet blinked, but thoughtfully, “I didn’t see anything, but I heard whimpering outside my twoleg’s nest. Then I heard a shrill yelp and the sound of paws scampering off.” He waved his tail in the direction that the scent had become garbled. “I think it went that way.”

“Thank you! Please pass word along, Sweetsong is on a rescue mission.” The she-cat let out a relieved breath and turned back toward the tangled smell of twolegs. “The house cat says he heard a puppy being driven in this direction.” She translated for her companions.

The gossip chain between kittypets and the street cats helped word spread whenever knowledge needed to travel. The other translators would be available if something came up in her absence.

Travel quickly became slow and difficult. The trail seemed to be going straight along the walking path, but the twoleg place had thunderpaths crossing every which way, and their foul reek made tracking difficult.

“Hey! Hey hey hey!” A voice barked. Something small, white and covered in long hair launched itself against the bars that circled his yard. “Hey! Bad cat! Bad cat scratch!”

A small black nose protruded from the mess of long hair and a pair of small brown eyes peered out of a screen hanging down over his face.

“A cat attacked you?” as important as the mission was, Sweetsong was appalled enough to stop in her tracks and stare.

“Yes! Yes!” The dog bounced in place, excited that someone was listening to him. “Asked ‘Where going with puppy? Where? Where?’ Bad cat hiss at me.”

“Puppy?!” Longclaw started forward, but hesitated when Sweetsong waved him back with her tail.

“We’re looking for the bad cats now,” Sweetsong said to the excitable bundle of hair, “They took the puppy away from her parents.”

The housedog froze, long hair quivering. “Stole puppy?” He breathed, bounciness forgotten.

“Yes. Can you tell us anything about them?” Sweetsong leaned forward urgently.

The quivering increased and then the small dog was on the move again, pacing angrily. “Three. Three bad cats. Tortoiseshell, white cat with pink eyes, gray and white she-cat. Tortoiseshell hiss at me.” The dog tilted his head and then hissed out something that sounded like ‘yer noisy! Shuttup!’ but the words were badly slurred.

Sweetsong nodded solemnly, though the mimicry was probably garbled by the white dog’s inexperience at the cat language, the small dog was doing quite well.

“What he hissed. Might have got wrong.” He shrugged his ears then paced again, faster and more agitated. “Scratched puppy when she whined in protest, hissed same sound.”

“Can you tell us where they went?”

The small white dog was off in a flash, racing along the fence with Sweetsong, Longclaw and Nightshade racing along on the other side. He skidded to a stop at a far corner and thrust a paw between the bars to swipe the air in the correct direction. “There! There into fence on ground! Disappear.”

Indeed, a tall, dark green fence of bars formed three sides of what looked like a long, narrow yard in the middle of the walking path.

“Hey!” the white dog barked when they started toward it. “They scratch nose, hit head. Make world spin! Careful!”


	3. Chapter 3

Cat and dogs froze as the walking path at the open end of the fence suddenly plunged underground: down a stepping slope that lead beneath the surface of the thunderpath. Twolegs and even kittypets used these paths to climb to different levels in the twoleg place.

The roar of an approaching monster echoed up to them from the depths and a strong breeze blasted up at them, blowing their fur straight back. The ground trembled, and then shook. There was a high screeching sound that plastered everyone’s ears back in an effort to block the noise and then the rumble faded and the breeze died. There was a hiss and then silence. Then there was another hiss and the sound built again to a growing roar as the still unseen monster rumbled away in the depths of the earth.

“Oh no…” Sweetsong breathed. “They took her into a monster’s lair?!”

Nightshade seemed to think along the same lines, because she gave a high whine and scrambled down the jagged path, nose sweeping frantically from side to side. She was halfway down when she thrust her nose against the hard wall and sniffed deeply and intently.

Translator and father followed and spotted what Nightshade had already found. A dusty puppy print marked the straight wall that rose from the jagged path; small, perfect, and clear.

“Oh you clever puppy!” the tabby breathed in relief.

Obviously frightened and lost, the puppy still had the presence of mind to place a pawprint to show that she had been here. Possibly during a brief rest coming down the path into the earth.

_I was here._ The print seemed to say. _Please follow me!_

The three made their cautious way down into the cave beneath the earth, smelling the foul metallic reek of the underground monster.

There were few twolegs here; it was still pretty early in the morning and they ranged quickly up and down in the cave without having to blunder through the crowds.

A roar heralded the approach of another monster and air blew past them before it screeched to a stop to allow the few twolegs into its belly. Unlike the monsters on the thunderpath, this was like a long, headless snake. Its silvery sides gleamed in the dim light before it plunged into the earth without hesitation, racing along a deep pit lined with long metal bars.

“Here!” Longclaw barked, his voice echoing again and again from the far end of the cave. As Nightshade and Sweetsong raced over, they saw that here too was a tiny puppy print on the wall, almost lost in the dim light.

A thin path lead off into the darkness, keeping parallel to the deep pit where the monsters raced along. Here, there was no scent of twoleg: just the rank scent of monster, overlaid by the fear scent of a puppy, and the bitter smell of the three strangers that had stolen her away.

“I will lead. Voice, follow.” Longclaw began walking along the narrow path, the fur of his side rasping against the hard tunnel wall. Sweetsong followed, with Nightshade padding along behind.

“Poor little scrap, she must be exhausted.” The she-cat sympathized, in an effort to keep her thoughts moving with her paws. “She wouldn’t be used to such long walks, would she?”

“No.” Longclaw shook his head as though a fly buzzed around his ears, “The path my mate and I took today was for more than exercise. We were scouting a path for Nightrun to travel along with us on her first trip out of her nest. She was just old enough to romp about in the alleyway without falling over.”

Sweetsong opened her mouth and then hesitated. Among cats, she would have been more tactful, but dogs valued honesty over smooth words so she braced herself and asked bluntly, “Why did you come for me? You obviously don’t need my help in tracking her.”

Longclaw looked back and and actually shared a long glance with Nightshade before his tail gave half a wag, meaning he felt somewhat awkward but also somewhat friendly. “Cats have kept to the Laws Of Peace for time beyond memory, with a few border crossings. Kits have strayed. So have pups. Both have always been returned safely.”

The big male trailed off, and seemed to be having trouble putting the rest into words, so Nightshade stepped in.“Cats in the twoleg place are viewed as more honorable than most. If it was a misunderstanding, or an uneducated cat, we wished to give them a chance to explain. Punishment is to be expected for their misdeeds, but we did not wish to put fangs-into-throat if they truly had not meant harm.”

Warmth poured over the translator and she closed her eyes in pleasure and relief. The Laws of Peace still held strong. The anxious parents were willing to lose precious time in order to uphold their own end of the truce, and bring a translator along.

“I hope to prove that at least some of us are worth that effort.” She swore to them, “But I am worried about the scent of blood I picked up in the nest. Innocent misunderstandings don’t stalk puppies and use pain to steal them away.”

The growl from Longclaw was terrifying to hear; for all that it was not aimed at the she-cat.

“We know.” Nightshade growled her own fury as the echoes of Longclaw’s growl faded. “There _will_ be punishment. It all depends on how much is owed at the end of the scent trail.”

A low rumble sounded behind them and a glaring light threw them into stark relief.

“A monster!” the tabby gasped, “We must find shelter! Quickly!”

Longclaw didn’t need to be told twice and he stretched out his legs as far as he dared along the narrow path. The monster roared behind them, then screeched to a stop. It hissed just as Longclaw turned and vanished into a dark shadow in the wall.

The translator skidded in behind him and collided with his powerful front legs. He had turned around in the shallow space and was bracing himself in place. “Sorry!” she gasped.

Nightshade squeezed in beside her mate and the smaller she-cat pressed against their legs in the scant shelter of the small alcove. She felt exposed and vulnerable, even at the feet of two powerful dogs.

“Maybe there’s a better...” She began.

“No time.” Nightshade cut in curtly.

The second hiss heralded the monster’s growing growl as it began to pick up speed toward them.

Wind pushed and whipped at the tabby’s fur, rapidly growing stronger as though trying to blow her away. The front of the train passed, and then the wind stopped blowing by. Instead, it started sucking her out.

Sweetsong’s claws slid uselessly along the hard path, finding nothing to hang on to as the sucking sensation grew harder. The scant shelter of the alcove was being left behind.

Eerie blue light flickered and flared beneath the monster as her small body was dragged forward like a leaf in a current. If she didn’t strike the side of the snake monster, she realized, she would be sucked beneath it. She was close enough now to realize that the flashing blue light was like lightning, only instead of plunging from the sky, it leaped and capered like a demented mouse beneath the crushing paws of the monster.

Sweetsong’s wail of terror was whipped away as she was pulled even faster toward her death beneath the monster.

Something slammed down on her from behind and clamped down around her middle so tightly that the breath was crushed from her lungs. The sides of the monster shot past, dragging at her whiskers until they stuck straight out from her face toward the awful thing. The very ends of them were buffeted ruthlessly by the monster’s hard sides and left her with no illusions about the terrible force behind the monster’s motion.

Wind whipped angrily around her and the monster roared, as though enraged at being cheated of its prey. But it did not stop, nor did it turn back for her.The end of the monster whipped past and with it, the terrible wind ceased.

The painfully tight grip around her middle released and Sweetsong gasped and sucked in a deep breath, glancing behind her.

“Sorry! Sorry! Was afraid we lost you.” Nightshade’s massive pink tongue slid out and lapped soothingly at the bruised places where her large teeth and seized the cat’s ribs.

Longclaw grunted and released his own grip on his mate’s scruff. “Almost lost both of you!” He snarled, “Monster dragged you both out!”

“Why did you not hold onto our pelts?” Nightshade demanded.

“I didn’t think to.” The she-cat admitted, “Voices do not use our claws for anything but hunting. We do not fight, and we do not use them against our friends.”

“Next time use them to hang on.” Longclaw instructed her, “Your claws could do no more than pinch me. And I will endure a pinch if it keeps you safe.”

“Thank you. You saved my life.” Sweetsong focused on breathing and tried not to pay attention to the treacherous little thought that whispered in the dark recesses of her mind; _You survived their jaws… this time. Do you really think you could trust them again if Nightrun is killed by those mangy flea bags? Longclaw said it himself; your claws would have no chance against him if he declares war._

_Silence!_ She snarled at the nasty voice, _The dogs are too honest for that! They know us, and they know I will do everything I can to rescue their daughter._

_Do they?_ Came the retort. _And if you fail?_

_We won’t fail!_

The doubtful silence felt louder than any words inside her skull. They had already come a long way considering they were tracking a puppy that had never traveled outside of her nest. Muscles and stamina took time to build, and driving such a young creature such a far distance was dangerous. The least of her worries were worn and bleeding pads. The worst of them could be collapsing from exhaustion.

And another worry…

These strange cats were traveling a long distance. There was no denying that the twoleg place had many, many hiding places, including ones where dogs were too large to pursue. If they wanted a hostage, traveling this far was ridiculous. If they had wanted the Nightrun killed, they could have killed the pup themselves. And there were many bolt holes where rats swarmed. A shudder danced its way up her spine. Not a pleasant way to go, but cats with fox hearts wouldn’t have hesitated at using such measures. Again, this distance made no sense.

War? War was a possibility, but an unlikely one. Driving a rift between the cats and dogs took more than a single lost puppy, whatever these cats might think. Dogs were unparalleled trackers, as Longclaw had pointed out, and these cats smelled **nothing** like their peaceful neighbors. It only took a halfhearted sniff to know better, and the translators who lived between the two territories would make absolutely sure that any such remaining doubts were cleared up immediately.

_So… Why?_

No answers came.

Sunlight streamed in farther down the tunnel, and the trio hurried toward it, trying to beat the next monster.

They made it, barely.

The translator turned and stared solemnly back the way they had come. A massive hill blocked her line of sight back to the twoleg place, but her heart felt tugged in two different directions. Back there was home, good hunting and friends, cats and dogs alike. Ahead was the unknown, where a frightened and hurting puppy was being taken for reasons that neither dog nor cat could fathom yet.

“We must hunt.” Longclaw announced decisively, “If the trip takes long, we must have the strength to do so. Gaining ground will do no good if we are too tired for the catch at the end.”

At the mention of food, Sweetsong’s stomach growled.

Nightshade huffed a laugh, “We will share then. Good food and good company clears clouds from the heart.”

Sweetsong returned with a squirrel, feeling glad that her hunting skills were still useful. The two dogs were eating a rabbit each, and a piece from both kills had been put aside for her. Before tucking in, she took two pieces from her squirrel and laid them aside for her canine companions. Such little tidbits wouldn’t be more than a taste for the cavernous jaws on the two dogs, but it was the gesture that counted. They had done the same for her after all.

Once each had eaten their own prey, dogs and cat accepted the offering from the other and ate in companionable silence.

“We have talked while hunting,” Longclaw said as they licked their whiskers clean. He flicked a pointed ear at his mate, “The path ahead may be unknown and long. It would be faster if you rode.”

Sweetsong looked up, startled, as Longclaw crouched down so that his broad back was easier to reach. “I... I am honored.”

She clambered up, careful about her claws, and settled herself behind the massive shoulders. A dog! She was riding a dog! Such a thing had never happened before in the history of the Laws of Peace, or even before!

“Hang on, and do not worry about your claws.” Longclaw stood up and began to walk, keeping a steady pace as the Translator tried to find her balance. The powerful shoulders worked smoothly in front of her, and the powerful flanks worked behind. Only here at the middle was there any semblance of an easy rhythm.

Grass passed in a blur as the two dogs lengthened their stride. Soon they loped along as quickly as a cat could flee at full speed. But unlike a cat, the two dogs didn’t seem to be tiring much.

Pink tongues lolled and jaws parted to draw air into the great lungs beneath her as the distance flashed by.

Where were they? Surely it was impossible for the puppy stealers to travel much farther?

Then, over the rhythmic beat of paws, a thin, shrill yelp echoed out over the early afternoon air. “Ow! Stop it!”

Sweetsong’s heart skipped a beat.

“Shut yer mouth, ye’ little--”

Whatever the rest of the retort was, it was drowned out by the roar of a monster coming to life.

“There!” Sweetsong leaned toward a big, brown monster that was beginning to roll toward a thunderpath that swung past the field they were traveling through.

A brown and black tortoiseshell hind end was just disappearing into the back of the beast.

The translator held on for dear life as Longclaw charged. The powerful spine arched and flexed beneath her as the angry father made a desperate charge to catch up with the beast that was taking his daughter away.

But the monster never paused. Instead it picked up speed and swept around a bend. The last Sweetsong saw of the monster was the gleam of its hide as it turned.

Breath coming in deep, panting growls, Longclaw hung his head and tried to catch his breath. “So… CLOSE.” Angrily, he slammed his paw into the packed dirt, gouging furrows into it with the claws that he had been named after. “Slug slime! Slug slime and…and… bitter beetles!” He swore angrily.

Sweetsong closed her eyes, sympathizing Longclaw’s frustration. There was no telling how fast and far the monster would carry Nightrun.

“We’re not finished until the trail runs cold and the rain sweeps away all traces.” Nightshade stepped forward to take command, “I will be alpha now.”

_Alpha…alpha… oh right, alpha means ‘leader.’_ It was a start for Sweetsong to realize that until now, Nightshade had always deferred to Longclaw.

Still trying to catch his breath, Longclaw didn’t argue: he simply flattened his ears, averted his eyes and crouched low for a moment.

Nightshade accepted his submission with a curt nod and began ranging back and forth in the thunderpath, searching for a scent.

“Better tracker.” Longclaw explained as his mate began sliding to the side of the thunderpath before her tail began to wag furiously.

“Faint.” Nightshade huffed, “But there.”

Sweetsong tasted the air, but couldn’t pick up anything but the bitter tang of the thunderpath. Sighing, she settled into place as her two companions set off again in their tireless lope.

At the end of the field, there was a new twoleg place. And in the distance, a gorge carved a swath through the earth as though a claw had carved a furrow through ground and stone alike.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a long, hungry, weary day before the trio crossed the new territory that the monster had vanished into. There might be unknown clans here, or no clans at all. It was obvious that cats had made their homes in the shadows of the twoleg nests. Hostile eyes glared out at them, but nobody came out to introduce themselves or to challenge them for crossing a border.

Possibly, no one dared; Longclaw and Nightshade were very large dogs, and everything about them said that they were hunting something. None of the Rogues here wanted that kind of attention drawn to themselves.

The sun was setting as the twoleg nests grew fewer and farther between. The familiar scent of twoleg garbage and prey made the she-cat’s mouth water. Uncertainty showed in the weary hang of Longclaw’s head as he stared at the unfamiliar surroundings, but Nightshade’s keen nose stayed on the side of the thunderpath and ignored all turns.

“Forgive me Longclaw, Nightshade,” Sweetsong finally pleaded. “I know you’re worried about your daughter, but I think we must stop and rest for the night. We haven’t eaten since this morning and we don’t know what lives here. The sun is setting and I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be as black as a rat’s lair once the sun sets. The new moon is tonight, and we cannot hunt for her in strange territory if we can’t even see our own paws.”

“We’re all hungry,” Nightshade allowed, “and even we must rest.”

Longclaw grunted in agreement and sat down, letting Sweetsong slide down the slope of his back. “Hunt, but don’t stray too far.” He warned them.

The strange twoleg place made the translator’s fur prickle and she longed for the familiar territories of home. The twoleg nests seemed older, more worn, and the trees in their yards had trunks so big around that it would have taken four cats, nose to tail tip, to encircle their trunks. Here trees loomed, higher than they ever got in a kittypet yard back home, and spread their branches far and high as though to hide secrets from the open sky.

She wasted little time in catching a squirrel and a few mice foraging on the dropped seeds near the thunderpath. The acrid scent was much fainter here, grasses were sprouting in the many cracks in the dull gray surface, and it was obvious that this thunderpath was almost entirely unused. Only the scent of the monster that had taken Nightrun seemed fresh.

Rustles in the growing darkness made hunting a nervous business, and she settled down with Longclaw and Nighshade with an uncharacteristic feeling of relief. With the two dogs around, whatever lived out here would have quite a challenge on its paws if it turned out to be hostile.

Morning wasn’t much better. The scent of rats revealed just how closely the foul creatures had dared to investigate the visitors. Both dogs stretched their aching legs with sounds of complaint, but had growled low and heavy at the little trails through the grass that slithered close and then turned away. Despite this, both seemed eager to continue, so Sweetsong kept her morning hunting brief.

Nightshade began to range back and forth, trying to pick up the end of the trail, and the lift of fur along her back told the translator how bad the news was.

“The trail is very hard to catch,” she said curtly. “It led beyond the twoleg nests, but if I cannot find it again…” She closed her eyes and shook her head so hard that her ears snapped, “Then we must rely on the mercy of cats who do not follow the Laws.”

Sweetsong grimaced. It would be slow going, trying to dig information from cats who would not trust a translator, or dogs. Why would they have reason to help? They would know a dozen different paths to flee along, leaving the trio of travelers weary and frustrated behind them.

The scent of rats grew stronger as they padded along the thunderpath, following the intermittent whiffs Nightshade seemed to be getting, until two ruts curved away from the thunderpath and through the grass. The two trails led directly to the side of an old, broken down twoleg nest, and stopped. The monster was no longer there, but the stench of rats was almost overwhelming.

Nightshade made a horrified keening deep in her throat and raced through the grass, casting about desperately to find a trace of anything.

A high, thin squeal came from within the nest. It was answered by another, and another. The darkness between the cracks seemed to move and shift of its own will, and tiny, twin points of light swayed and bounced, focused on the trio.

Tiny shudders quivered beneath Longclaw’s pelt, and the bristling fur made Sweetsong feel as though she were riding a hedgehog instead of a dog. The big dog wasn’t afraid per se. At least not in a way that Sweetsong certainly was. He didn’t want to go into the nest. And he certainly didn’t want to have to fight those terrible shadows. But there was something in his scent that made the translator want to curl up and hide; Longclaw was building up a deadly rage.

_If Nightrun’s scent goes into that building, and she has been killed…_ Sweetsong swallowed thickly. _They will swarm us, but the rats will get slain by the hundreds before we go down…_

Relief made Sweetsong’s legs weak when Nightshade gave a sharp bark and turned away from the nest of rats, following a scent trail and must have been strong and sure, because she began to pick up speed.

A screech sounded after them, shrill and mocking, but no one looked back.

The trail came to a scent line and turned along it. Unease prickled through her fur, but there was no one about, and no one challenged them as they entered a small copse of trees. The gorge was now just on the other side, and the scent of cats drifted to them whenever the wind blew the correct way.

But still they followed the scent trail along the edges of the gorge, keeping just far enough back that no one doing a patrol along the border could accuse them of trespassing. It soon left the strange cat clan behind. The sun rose higher and higher in the sky, and the heat seemed to beat down on them from above, and reflect up from below.

Abruptly, Nightshade came to a stop with a high, frustrated whine.

Part of the wall had collapsed, leaving a narrow path down to bottom; it was fresh and raw and couldn’t have happened more than a few days previously.

The path was far too thin for the dogs to climb down, and Sweetsong knew that they would have to backtrack. They had no choice but to wait for a patrol now.

Nightshade flopped down beneath a tree at the edge of the border, and refused to acknowledge anyone, panting heavily.

Longclaw grunted, “Black fur, hot fur.”

He carried the translator into the shade and lay down too. “Must rest. Wait for it to be cooler. Wait for strange clan cats to come.”

Sweetsong’s light cinnamon fur felt light and airy in contrast to the dark brown fur beneath her paws, and the wall of what felt like open flame from Nightshade. She hopped down from Longclaw’s back, figuring he would be more comfortable without her warm body blocking the breeze that wove through the trees.

“I’m going to try to grab something to eat,” she meowed to her companions, “I promise not to go far.”

Nightshade’s ear flicked in her direction, but it was a lazy, half gesture.

Decision made, she padded through the trees, always careful to keep the scent line on her right. Maybe she could get a mouse…

_Or a vole…_ she thought, her eyes narrowing as she began to stalk one that perched at the top of a low ridge.

It was cleaning its whiskers and seemed unaware of her presence.

Her hindquarters gave a little wiggle just as the vole sat up, whiskers twitching as it sniffed the air in alarm. She leaped for it, and something slammed into her from behind.

The vole vanished down a hole, but suddenly she was no longer interested in that. A screech of shock and pain burst out of her as she was flattened to the earth with someone biting painfully at her scruff.

“Tresspasser! Thief! I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!” Claws dug into Sweetsong’s shoulders and pinned her roughly against the earth. “What’s the matter? Too soft to fight back, kittypet?”

The shock of actually being attacked was overwhelmed by the sudden pain as her attacker raked both hind paws down her back. The red-hot fire that accompanied the move said she was bleeding even before she smelled it. A screech of pain burst from her jaws. Frantic, she struggled to throw her attacker off.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he jeered in her ear, and shoved her head down against the ground so that the rough grit scraped her cheek, “Maybe you better start begging me for forgiveness right now, before I decide that you’re not sorry at all!”

Her attacker outweighed her, and the strength in his rippling muscles made it clear that she was never going to win in a straight tussle. Not that she really knew about fighting anyway; the path of a translator was all about _preventing_ violence. Her only hope was to do something desperate that would rattle him so that he couldn’t immediately attack her again.

Biting back a whimper of pain, she went limp beneath him and he relaxed his grip with a scornful hiss. Thrusting up and to the right with all her strength, Sweetsong unbalanced him and both of them rolled right over the edge of the ridge.

The roll gave her the added blessing of driving her attacker beneath her as they hit the slope under the rim. The landing drove the air out of her attacker’s lungs and she tumbled free briefly, struggling to get her balance. Loose soil and plant debris billowed up in clouds as the two cats tumbled down the slope. When they reached the bottom, the translator felt a rush of satisfaction as she landed on top of him again, driving the air out of his lungs a second time and leaving him wheezing.

“Serves you right, you big bully,” she spat. _Got to climb,_ she thought, trying to ignore the burning pain along her back. _Got to get away._ Finally able to see who had hit her, she found herself looking down at a black cat with gray legs and belly.

His face was screwed up into a snarl at her, even as he tried to recover from the landing.

She scrambled up the slope, struggling against the loose soil and scree that crumbled beneath her paws.

“Oh no you don’t! You and your rotten tricks aren’t going to win this-”

“What happened? Why did you scream? Did you fall off the ridge? You… **you’re bleeding!** ” Nightshade’s concerned whine turned into a bubbling growl as she appeared at the edge of the ridge and cast her shadow over the scene.

The tom who had attacked Sweetsong gaped at the large dog that was now growling in fury down at him. “Don’t make any sudden moves,” he breathed to Sweetsong. “It could attack at any moment.”

Sweetsong bristled in fury, and then winced when it sent a fresh wave of pain down her back. “ **Now** you want to protect me? **Now?** After you attacked me and hurt me, **now** you want to play at being a hero?”

She deliberately turned her back on him, infuriated even further by his bewildered blink. _He really thinks that he did nothing wrong! He really thinks that attacking me without warning was perfectly okay, and that I should trust him to protect me from a dog after all that!_ She gritted her teeth angrily and looked up at Nightshade. “I don’t think he knows that I am a Voice, or even how to treat one.” She explained, slowly climbing the slope while trying not to flinch. She was sure that she had gotten dirt into her scratches, and she really needed to clean them before they got infected. But she also wanted to be safe with her companions before taking care of it. “He was angry that I was hunting.”

“I have a right to protect our territory!” The cat snarled at Sweetsong when she translated, “And I have a whole clan to back me up. Mess with me and I’ll-“

Nightshade didn’t even bother to sniff the air. “The scent line is over **there**!” She pointed with her tail at the scent line, still a fox length beyond the bottom of the small ridge. “Our Voice was not trespassing, and the prey clearly wasn’t the clan’s. I judge this cat to be in the wrong in this dispute.”

The tom yowled in shock as Longclaw appeared noiselessly from behind him and pinned him with a great paw. “Little fool,” Longclaw growled at the tom through the translator, “Attacking first and asking questions later will get you killed. The only reason why I will not kill you myself is because you are ignorant. But you **will** be punished!”

The large dog raked his claws down the tom’s back, drawing a pained screech from Sweetsong’s attacker. He flailed frantically, but only managed to scramble away when the Longclaw released him, sporting painful, bleeding scratches that matched Sweetsong’s own. " ' _Punishments shall not exceed the crime.'_ _"_ he quoted. _"_ A lesson to you,” the big dog growled through the she-cat, “Never attack someone when you could have solved the problem by asking a simple question. And be grateful that I am an honorable dog!”


	5. Chapter 5

Nightrun lay still and tried to get some sleep. The trio of cats never slept all at once. There was always one keeping watch. She had learned, painfully, that they could not be snuck past in the depths of the night. They also kicked her if she snored too loudly, clawed her if she wandered too far away, and if she mouthed off, things _really_ got painful. They didn’t have to understand her words, apparently, to know when to cause pain.

They were only a little smaller than she was, but the hard muscles beneath their coats said that they knew more about fighting than she did. And they proved it too.

The pale one seemed to really like making her yelp. He slapped her, jabbed her, and bit her at random points during the day. It got so she never really relaxed. She was always vigilant and was quick to pull a sensitive spot out of reach whenever he got within a certain distance of her. For some reason, that would please him, and he would withhold whatever nasty trick he had been planning. Not being punished was her reward.

The one time she snapped back, she actually got his paw in her mouth and a single fang scored him. It wasn’t even a proper bite by her kind’s standards, since she hadn’t expected to actually get him, and hadn’t held on. But it did draw blood. In retaliation, all three of them fell upon her; overwhelming her and punishing her until her growls turned to yelps, and snaps turned to squeals of pain. They fell back eventually and she tried to get up. She was slapped across the nose by the black and brown one, and spent the better part of an hour cowering and shivering until they decided to continue moving.

The trip down into the gorge had been harrowing. The path was incredibly thin, and the only way to descend was to creep along it, her nose pointed at a steep, downward angle, feeling the loose soil disintegrate beneath her clumsy puppy paws.

Once they all reached the bottom, they allowed her to rest and drink from the water that bubbled up from beneath the rocks and wended its way farther downstream. It was the distraction she needed to plant another dusty paw print on a stone by the water’s edge. Her parents would come. They just had to. But until they did, she would have to keep the trail fresh.

Once they all got a drink, the pale one snarled the same words he always used and the gray and white she-cat would move behind her, ready to goad her forward. It was the usual routine and she followed readily so that she wouldn’t have to take another jab to the flank.

The going was even harder here. Stones were strewn everywhere. If she tried to walk across them like the cats did, her paws slipped and skid on stones that rolled and pitched beneath her. If she tried to pick her way through the narrow paths between then, she stubbed her toes or ran the risk of getting them trapped between two heavy stones.

This slowed everyone immensely, and put all three cats in a nasty mood. Goading her finally proved to be pointless, because no matter how hard they jabbed, she could not go any faster. Finally they stopped for a rest as the sun got to its highest point.

Nightrun flopped in the shadow of a boulder and panted. She was too weary to wonder what they wanted with her anymore. It seemed like dragging her all this way was their only goal, with some nebulous end far off in the distance.

Her soft paws throbbed and ached. Every pad had been scraped. Three paws suffered a broken claw that had her limping and stumbling on the already rough terrain. She was sure a drop or two of blood left a rather clear trail through the stones.

A stone clattered and Nightrun’s head snapped up, as was her new habit. Something red moved among the stones, and then a long, pointed face pushed into the open and looked right at her.

A fox? A fox! Her father said that foxes were distant cousins of dogs, and spoke a slightly different dialect. Her mother though, warned that they were primitive, had a nasty bloodlust, and could never be really trusted.

Still, maybe she could try to talk to it?

“Hello,” she greeted it. “Please, can you help me? I’m lost. These cats took me away from my parents.”

The fox blinked, its expression strangely neutral. “Lost? No parents?” Its voice was harsh, and sort of difficult to understand.

“Yes.” She persisted, “Cats took me away.”

Slowly, a nasty leer spread across the fox’s muzzle. “Alone! Lost! No parents! Cats!”

A second fox face appeared to Nightrun’s left and her heart began to sink.

“Lost! Alone! Helpless!” They were chanting it now, like some sort of battle cry. They began to close in.

“I am not helpless!” Nightrun stood up, glaring at them both, baring her sharp teeth at them. “I can bite too! I-“

Both foxes bared their own fangs.

_That’s a lot of teeth!_ She began to back away anxiously.

“Lost! Alone! Rip! Tear! Kill!” On the last word, the two foxes charged.

Nightrun squealed in terror, spun on a mouse tail and pelted, full tilt, upstream. Rocks were no longer a hurdle for her. Her paws hit and took off too quickly for the rolling motion to slow her down. Pure terror gave her the motivation and speed to fly across the stones.

The foxes barked and snapped behind her, and the angry screech from her captors turned to yowls of terror. They fled, following the terrified puppy, with the foxes gleefully racing behind them.

The gorge began to narrow rapidly around them until it was barely wide enough for Nightrun to squeeze through. Fear of her pursuers drove her through the water worn stone until she popped out on the other side. Her captors shot through half a heartbeat behind her, leaving the larger foxes to snap and snarl in frustration behind them. Clawed paws scraped and dug at the stone, but it did little more than leave thin scratch marks.

“Kill you! Kill you and eat you!”

Nightrun shuddered, but the three cats sneered and snarled and yowled mockingly at the helpless fury of the two carnivores.

A cool, wet scent caught Nightrun’s nose and she followed it eagerly. There was a hole in the floor of the gorge, no bigger than a rabbit hole really. But the sweet, cool scent of underground water drew her forward.

She glanced back. Her tormenters were still prancing back and forth, just out of reach. They weren’t paying her any mind.

She glanced upstream. The gorge continued to narrow here, ending in sheer stone walls with no climbable way up. There was no other way out and air blew out of the hole with enough strength to ruffle her fur. There had to be a way out somewhere in this hole. It would be close, and tight, but she could get in and…

…the walls could protect her! She could get away!

Something stirred inside her. Hope! It was an old dog defense; with walls of a den to either side and the den behind her, her enemies could only come one at a time!

Her mouth parted in a hopeful smile, and she squeezed past the entrance, into the depths of the earth.

 

.

 

“Fascinating.” Another tom slid out from behind a rock and regarded the wounded tom with a cold glance before turning to Sweetsong. “Do you really understand them, or are you just pretending?” The newcomer was a rich gray tom with dark tabby markings and warm golden eyes. His expression was open and curious. Kindness sparkled in his gaze.

_Well hello there, handsome._ A pleased voice breathed in her head, as something deep in her chest warmed at the sight of him.

“I can speak their language,” she said, scuffing her paws shyly. “I am a translator. We are trained from a young age to keep the Laws of Peace between us and the dogs in the twoleg place.”

He nodded as if her words made perfect sense and examined the tom’s injuries. “They are shallow, and won’t scar if we keep them covered with a poultice. Serves you right though.”

“Serves _me_ right?! She’s hunting close to our territory, and I attacked her like any warrior would.”

“You _aren’t_ a warrior though, are you Eaglepaw?” The newcomer narrowed his eyes at the cat who had attacked the cinnamon tabby. “And you did cross _beyond_ the clan’s scent markings. _You_ were in the wrong.”

The tom muttered something incoherent and stared at the ground.

“You didn’t ask her what she was doing here or why she was hunting prey so close to our borders. You didn’t even try to chase her away. You attacked her, pinned her, and deliberately hurt her while she was helpless. I think Highleap has done you a large disservice in not training you on how to handle cats who come to the borders. Not all of them are looking for a fight! What if she had needed help?”

Eaglepaw hunkered down lower and lower under the new cat’s angry rant, refusing to meet his eyes. “She didn’t.” he muttered sullenly as the new tom snatched a few leaves off a nearby plant and chewed them into a poultice to put on Eaglepaw’s scratches. “Besides, what if she **had** crossed? Then she would have been stealing.”

“And you could have kept her from catching anything by loudly demanding to know what she thought she was doing,” came the retort. The new tom glanced at Sweetsong thoughtfully as she dutifully rumbled out the translations to the two dogs, who watched the conversation with cool suspicion.

“Go on, limp your way back to the camp. Highleap, Rainstar and I will have a long talk about whether or not to punish you further for your rash and violent behavior. And don’t try to bluster or fudge the lines! Tallfern was with me and saw what you did too, and he is on his way to camp ahead of you!”

The silence as Eaglepaw retreated from view, thoroughly embarrassed, stretched uncomfortably before the tom turned around.

“Will you let me help you? There are herbs nearby that will help with the pain.” He asked her. “My name is Maplefur, and I’m a Skyclan medicine cat.”

“Sweetsong.” She introduced herself, slowly easing her way back down the steep slope below the ridge.

Dirt skidded and crumbled as Nightshade followed the she-cat down the low slope on her long legs. “I will check what you give her.” She told the wide eyed medicine cat.

Maplefur blinked, his fur spiked uneasily as his gaze darted from one large dog to another. “Er, if you insist.” He tried to sound cheerful, but his voice quavered a little in fear.

“I do insist.” Nightshade rumbled quietly through the translator, “I am named after a deadly plant for a reason; I know my poisons.” She thrust her nose at him to add emphasis to her thinly veiled accusation.

His fear was abruptly replaced by righteous offense. “I am a medicine cat. I take my vows to heal and help very seriously!” He stalked off, stiff legged and his tail twitching in aggravation.

Now that the heat of the fight had cooled down, Sweetsong’s vision swam as her back began to throb in time to her heartbeat. It wasn’t the scratches, really, that made her feel so rotten inside... it was the fact that they had been done deliberately. Eaglepaw had done it to hurt her, not to defend himself or his territory. He had taken advantage of his superior strength just so that he could cause pain.

_It is the responsibility of the strong to protect the weak._

Angrily she rubbed at her eyes with the back of her paw, trying to get her emotions under control. The Laws of Peace didn’t apply here. This place had never heard of them, and it was silly to expect any cat to follow them. _I’m as spoiled as a kittypet._ She thought angrily, _Just a few scratches from a mangy fleabag and I want to wail like a little kit that stepped on a thorn. Not everyone treasures a translator! Get a hold of yourself!_

Her vision stubbornly refused to clear, just as the shock and hurt refused to ease.

Nightshade touched the translator’s ear with her big black nose and began to croon a gentle song about the Firefly And The Lily Flower. It was a song normally shared with pack mates, and the significance wasn’t lost on the tabby. She was being treated as one of the pack, and that was a warm balm on her aching heart. The smooth rise and fall of the dog’s voice helped her focus and control herself. Briefly, she leaned her head against the big dog’s cheek to show her gratitude.

“Sorry about that,” Maplefur wove his way out of the undergrowth with the ease of experience, carrying a bundle of herbal smelling leaves in his jaws, “Some of them were farther away than I thought.” He laid them out for Nightshade to sniff.

“The chamomile will help with aches that have nothing to do with injuries,” his expression was studiously neutral, “and the comfrey is used for wounds. Normally I would use cobwebs, but I would have to go all the way back to camp for those. Catchweed will have to do for now.”

Nightshade nodded reassuringly and Sweetsong padded forward to accept them. With the gentle tom sitting so close, she was finally able to get his scent past the rich, green scent of herbs. It sent a warm glow straight through her middle, and her ears warmed.

To stifle the purr that was building in her throat, she began to wash her injuries. The taste of her blood and the grit on her tongue pushed the strange warmth farther back and allowed her to concentrate on something else.

It didn’t help that he was so close to her though, gently spreading the poultice on her cleaned scratches with a gentle tongue. Her treacherous mind conjured up a very clear image of the pair of them grooming one another in the warm Newleaf sunlight.

_Whoa, hey, stop that!_ She chided herself, _Stop thinking like a queen! The mission is more important. And what would we do about kits?_

That thought pricked the warm glow and drained it away quickly. She couldn’t stay, and any kits they had would never get meet him. That wouldn’t be fair to him, or any future kits.

The chamomile worked quickly once she swallowed it, and the sharp ache in her chest from being hurt finally melted away.

There was just the faintest hint of a whuff of amusement in Longclaw’s voice as he watched Maplefur finish patting the catch weed into place. “I am glad that not all cats here are rat hearted, but we cannot afford to waste any more time. We must find Nightrun.”

A ball of ice formed in her chest and she quickly explained why they had come to Skyclan territory in the first place.

Maplefur’s expression grew disturbed. “I can lead you to a place where you can meet up with Rainstar and get the clan’s help.”

“And why should we trust you?” Longclaw’s eyes hardened and his lip lifted a little.

“You’re just going to have to.” The medicine cat looked straight into Longclaws eyes, keeping his voice level.

“Don’t keep eye contact,” Sweetsong warned him in an undertone, “Dogs take it as a challenge to fight if you don’t look away.”

Obediently, the tabby tom blinked and let his gaze sweep up and down the gorge, “And we know the territory better than you do. We can track things here better than you can because we know what is normal and what isn’t.”

There was a long silence, and then Longclaw nodded curtly.

“Follow me; I’ll take you closer to camp, and then go get Rainstar.”

“Don’t bother,” came the almost lyrical sound of a cat’s voice. Sleek, pale gray she-cat padded out of the underbrush and surveyed the scene with dark green eyes. “We came looking when Tallfern came back alone.”

“We?” Nightshade asked, tilting her head.

“Yes, we.” The she-cat flicked a tail and several powerful looking cats oozed out of the shadows beneath the foliage and regarded the trio with cold, unfriendly eyes. “The clan was all for driving you out, but we’ve been listening.” She turned and flicked her gaze from Sweetsong to the two dogs. “Is your puppy the only thing you want here?”

Longclaw and Nightshade shared a quick glance and then he stepped forward while she stepped back, trading alpha position. “No.”

The fur along the she-cat’s shoulders ruffled, but she asked evenly, “No?”

“We also want the cats that took her.” Longclaw’s lips drew back to reveal gleaming teeth.

A few cats shuddered.

Rainstar nodded slowly, “That is…understandable.”

A tiny rustle made Nightshade’s ears flick sideways. With an amused snort, she leaped from a standing position and sailed over a low bush. Several cats made approving mews at the distance she reached. Landing almost soundlessly behind it induced the bush to give three shocked gasps, and with a thrust of her long nose, she sent three kits tumbling out into the open at Longclaw’s feet.

The clan went rigid.


	6. Chapter 6

Maplefur sighed, “Longkit, Petalkit and Molekit.” His tail pointed them out; a long legged tom with tan fur, a dark brown she-cat with delicate markings on her face, and a tom with fur so dark brown it was almost a velvety black, respectively.“Your mother must be hysterical.”

No sooner had the words been spoken when a beautiful black queen burst out of the brambles with a look of terror on her face. She skidded to a stop and stared in dumbfounded horror from the dogs to her kits.

“We wanted to see the dogs!” Longkit protested, not having noticed the arrival of his mother, and then stared at the massive paws before him. Slowly his gaze traveled up their length to the broad chest, thick neck and massive head that gazed down at him from a very great height. The kit gulped. “Um, wow. They’re _huge_!”

The big male’s breath huffed a very soft chortling sound when Sweetsong translated. Bringing his head down to meet the kit’s eyes he commented; “Well thank you for mentioning that, little kit. I might not have noticed otherwise.”

Less reserved than her brother, Petalkit strode forward and placed her tiny paws on the big dog’s muzzle and stared at her reflection in the closest brown eye. “Are all dogs as big as you are?”

“No. Some are bigger.” Nightshade answered for him, mouth stretched in horizontally, “Some are smaller. And most chase cats.”

Petalkit seemed to ignore the subtle cautioning tone that Sweetsong conveyed and trailed her gaze along the Longclaw’s neck to the muscled shoulders. “Wow. Imagine the view of the gorge we’d have from those shoulders!” She dropped into a crouch, wiggled her hindquarters and tried to jump.

“I _believe_ it would be polite to _ask_ first.” Longclaw chided, rising again so that the kit collided with the thick fur that coated his leg instead of landing on his shoulder where she’d been aiming.

Sweetsong caught Rainstar’s eyes and rolled her eyes with a good natured wiggle of her whiskers to reassure her.

The clan leader let out a breath and relaxed before shaking her head. “Please Nightheart, remember to breathe.”

The queen let out her own breath in a wheeze and then took a deeper, stronger breath and settled for glaring thorns at her kits.

“I apologize on behalf of my youngest members of my clan,” Rainstar told the dogs. “Normally kits are supposed to _stay inside the camp_.”

The last was spoken with a sharp look at the kits, who were fearlessly examining the two dogs as though they were fellow clanmates they were meeting for the first time.

Molekit started guiltily and froze in the process of weaving back and forth and around and back between the tolerant Nightshade’s legs. Petalkit, on the other paw, had prodded one of Longclaw’s big feet off the ground. She had rolled onto her back, wrapping her small legs around it—barely—and was trying to playfully wrestle with it. Only Longkit immediately took the hint and retreated back to his mother. The other two followed more slowly, with varying degrees of apology on their faces.

“Thank you for not harming them,” Nightheart meowed to the dogs before bustling them back toward camp, “It gives me the chance to chew their ears myself! I don’t even know how you three climbed this far up!” Her scolding voice faded as she led them away.

Longclaw shrugged both ears in good natured resignation, “I too have a mischievous youngster. Never fear: neither of us would ever harm a kit.”

“Back to business,” Nightshade tried to get things back on track, “we must find our daughter, and quickly. We found evidence that the cats who took her aren’t above hurting her to get what they want.”

That sparked several growls from the strange cats.

“Right. Where were they going?” Rainstar was all brisk business.

“They were riding in the back of a monster traveling along the thunderpath.” Longclaw gestured with his nose back the way they had come. “They stopped at a twoleg nest infested with rats, and the trail leads farther upstream. I tracked it to a path leading down into the gorge.

“A path leading down into the gorge!?” Rainstar repeated, glancing around at her clanmates. “Upstream? Has anybody seen this?”

“No.”

“Not me, but it’s been a couple days since I went that way.”

“Nope.”

“Please,” Rainstar interjected over the murmured denials, “Show us where this path is. It is obvious that you are worried about your daughter, but this is where we live. An unknown path into the gorge is a danger to us as well. And we have duties we must be able to perform. Will you swear not to harm our clanmates?”

“I swear that I will not harm anyone, as long as they keep the same deal.” Longclaw planted all four feet firmly and bowed his head until his chin touched his chest.

“I too swear by the deal offered and the agreements defined.” Nightshade mimicked her mate’s pose.

Rainstar took the odd gestures in stride and agreed, “Then I, Rainstar, Leader of Skyclan accept your promise in the heart and spirit that it is offered. In return, I pledge to ensure that my own clan keeps to the agreement.”

Then she turned to Sweetsong. “Do you, too, translator, swear to abide by the agreement?”

Sweetsong blinked, surprised to be spotlighted, since translators usually were semi-invisible and agreements tended to extend to them by default. “I-I do.” She meowed, when the clan leader’s gaze did not waver.

“Then let it be so. Gorsefur, please inform the clan that we have guests, and that they are to be treated well.”

One of the cats turned and bounded off through the underbrush.

Rainstar hesitated, then meowed; “Lead us to this new path.”

The three travelers padded along the edge of the gorge until they found the winding path downward.

A cat known as Whitebirch, the clan’s ‘Deputy,’ eyed the path critically. “This was an accident. See here Rainstar? A large stone sat here. See the shape of where it had lain? It looks like the wind and the rain weakened the soil that was packed on top of the stones, and it just crumbled away. This path is far too unstable to be permanent... One unlucky cat could make it all crumble away, and send them into a helpless fall. It's amazing those cats made it down in one piece, much less a puppy.”

Sweetsong nodded thoughtfully. The soft earth had indeed collapsed; leaving behind a series of rocks still loosely embedded in the wall of the gorge, which formed a sort of stepping path downward. It looked very treacherous and unstable. She couldn’t imagine a puppy willingly clambering down this way.

“Here!” Longclaw barked, making several cats jump in surprise at his vehemence, “Her scent is here!”

One by one, the cats in the patrol slid forward and began sniffing the stone.

“Your puppy, and three other cats. Rogues by their stench. Ugh, how could they stand themselves?” Whitebirch meowed.

“This path will never support the weight of more than one cat, and certainly not the weight of our guests,” Rainstar meowed severely. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Come. I will take you to the path we use to get into our camp. It’s steep, but much wider and definitely safer.”

Eyes gleamed out of cracks in the walls of the gorge where there must have been dens tucked away. Some cats looked frozen; only their eyes moved as the two large dogs made their way to the bottom. Some cats simply tipped their heads curiously. Other cats whispered into the ears of their fellows, who blinked and looked puzzled as their gazes jumped from Sweetsong to the dogs.

Rainstar bounded to a rock situated higher than the rest and called out, “Cats of Skyclan and honored guests, gather for a clan meeting.”

The clan leader paused patiently as Sweetsong translated; drawing increasingly curious stares from the rest of the clan cats.

Rainstar explained to the rest of the clan the purpose of the dogs’ visit and the concerns they had about their daughter’s safety. Longclaw rose and described the narrow path that led into the gorge beyond the clan’s general range, which caused a considerable stir among the clan cats; both that the dog’s low barks turned into words from the cinnamon tabby, and that an unknown path endangered the clan.

Whitebirch, immediately set about organizing a patrol. “We can’t let this path stay open; it’s a danger to all of us. But before we worry about that, we have to make sure the puppy is safe. I want our best climbers to study this path. Study it, but do not try to collapse it! I want to plan this very carefully. Cats could be killed by falling rocks if we are reckless.”

Several heads nodded and a trio of warriors padded out of the throng.

“We also need a few scouts. We need swift, stealthy cats to find where these Rogues are, and decide how to rescue the puppy. If we charge in, Nightrun could be hurt.”

Three more cats slipped free of the throng at Whitebirch’s direction.

“And of course,” Sweetsong finished translating, “We need our Herb Cat to check for wounds.” The dog language didn’t have a translation for ‘medicine’ so she did the best approximation.

Both dogs nodded calmly.

As warriors gathered to wish their clan mates well, Rainstar padded over to have a more private conversation with the two dogs. “I’m sorry that we can only spare these few warriors.” She meowed, “We have responsibilities that the clan must continue to deal with; hunting, patrols, and apprentice duties. The whole clan cannot abandon them to focus solely on one lost puppy.” A look of unease crossed her face briefly as Sweetsong translated for the dogs, and then looked relieved at Longclaw’s response.

“We would not expect your clan to do so.” The big dog shook off as though scattering dust, a gesture meant to brush away the clan leader’s concerns. “We are glad for any help you can offer us. There are things a cat can do that we cannot.”

“Let’s go!” Came Whitebirch’s call, and the strange patrol of Skyclan, translator and dogs followed.


	7. Chapter 7

Maplefur caught up with the two patrols quickly enough, and distributed the bundles of herbs among a few willing warriors. Without an apprentice to help, he had to ask his clanmates. Fortunately no one objected to this task.

Listening to the conversation between Sweetsong and the two guests, he couldn’t help but be astonished; even after listening for so long. Sweetsong seemed to be able to translate what he was saying to the dogs, and they reacted as if they understood the strange sounds that rumbled and rolled out of her throat. And she seemed to switch between the two languages with ease.

He also wanted to chuckle: her voice was higher than any dog, and she couldn’t get the deep range that the biggest one could. Yet it seemed to make sense to them, and they always listened respectfully as she growled out long strings of strange words to them.

He dropped a bit behind the patrol to speak to Sweetsong. “What are their names? In their language I mean.” He added hastily when she started to look annoyed.

“ _Nightshade._ ” She growled slowly in their tongue, nodding to each dog in question. “ _Longclaw._ ”

“Nahhgt...” Brindlepaw tried. “Neeeiigt...”

Sweetsong’s whiskers twitched. “Deeper, and kind of at the back of your throat. Like you’re going to cough a little. It makes your throat hurt a bit at first until you get used to it.”

Maplefur tried several times until she reassured him that he had it right, or nearly so. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice rasping a little, “It does hurt the throat.”

He swallowed a few times, trying to wet his throat, and then stubbornly he asked for the puppy’s name. Sweetsong told him, and he wrestled with that word too.

When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to make it much farther than those three words, he switched tactics, asking about the gestures that the two dogs had made.

“Dogs really aren’t as different from cats as you would think. Some things are the exact opposite, but others are easy.” She nodded to Longclaw, who was ranging back and forth, trying to get a whiff of his daughter’s scent. With no trail to follow yet, he was bristling with frustration. “For example, the fur along the back of Longclaw’s neck. When he’s upset, the fur bristles up, a lot like a cat’s. And if they want to be the boss or show that they are tough and strong, they fluff up their fur to look bigger. If they flatten their fur and crouch low, they are trying to look less threatening. They tuck their tails too.”

Maplefur looked at Nightshade, who was padding along much more calmly, and wagging her stiff tail a few times whenever her mate paced nearby. “Is she annoyed?”

“No, she’s trying to be friendly and reassuring. Dogs watch the tails a lot. To show them you’re friendly, you stiffen your tail and swing it about like they do. To us, it looks weird and makes us look angry.” She hesitated and then added in a softer voice, “There’s a reason the dogs call our language the ‘Liar’s Tongue’.”

“Liar?!” Maplefur was shocked.

“Dogs are very honest. The fact that our body language is different and in some ways, opposite, makes us look like liars to them.” Sweetsong explained. “They see honestly in a stiff tail. A flexible cat’s tail looks like a snake slithering about. They really don’t trust that.”

Longclaw stopped suddenly and sniffed the air, one leg lifted so that only the tips of his claws brushed the ground. Then he turned and looked at Nightshade and gave a modulated series of low barks.

Nightshade bounded in the direction that her mate’s nose was pointing.

“Uh, should we go after…” Maplefur began but Sweetsong hastily shook her head.

“She’ll be back.” Sweetsong suddenly looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t look at the medicine cat.

“What is it?” he pressed her.

“Nightshade said she was named after a poisonous plant.” Sweetsong meowed, “Longclaw caught a whiff of her namesake. From here on out, whatever you do, stay away from her claws.”

Horror made Maplefur’s chest grow tight. “She… she’s really…” he swallowed and shivered, “She would… to those cats…”

“We don’t know what condition Nightrun is in, or will be in. That truth, while it hurts, is the reason why she’s preparing herself for the worst. _The Laws Of Peace do not apply to those who reject them_ ,” she recited. “If these cats mistreat Nightrun, the Laws Of Peace will not protect them from her parents’ rage.”

“Please Maplefur,” she pleaded as he shrank back, his golden eyes locked on Nighshade’s now glistening claws and she she-dog loped back to join the group, “They are honorable dogs, and they follow the Laws Of Peace very strictly. It will take considerable cruelty to drive them to those ends.”

Maplefur was silent for a long moment. Honorable warriors didn’t need to kill in order to win. He could understand an accidental death in the heat of battle, but to poison one’s claws deliberately…

His gaze traveled over the two dogs as they panted in the heat. They weren’t like cats, and everything he knew about them said that they were dangerous and often stupid. And yet…Sweetsong traveled with them. She trusted them. And they very obviously respected and trusted her. The thought of poisoning one’s claws was a horrifying thought and went against the Medicine Cat code. Yet, even the dogs seemed to follow a code of rules much like the warriors of Skyclan followed the Warrior Code.

They certainly could have chased down and caught Eaglepaw in the usual noisy racket that some dogs did… But they had not, and had become angry and dangerous only when they had seen Sweetsong’s injuries. Even then, they hadn’t hurt him any more than he had hurt her.

Finally he nodded. “All right. I’ll try to get over it.”

“Thank you,” Sweetsong’s voice held a lake of relief and she touched his cheek with a gentle nose.

Startled, he purred and nuzzled back.

A shadow fell over them and Maplefur flinched. Longclaw stood nearby and he made a sound that sounded oddly like he was clearing his throat. It was deep, gruff, but also… almost polite?

He had to marvel at the way the two dogs moved almost as quietly as a cat despite their size. It drove home how different they were from dogs belonging to twolegs.

The big dog nodded forward, indicating that the two patrols had pulled ahead, and they needed to catch up. Maplefur did his best to give his tail a stiff wag in gratitude. The muzzle parted horizontally, and he received a wag in return as they trotted to catch up.

The stream wound its way through the level floor of the gorge, cool and tempting, before vanishing beneath a field of rocks. The going would be much slower from here.

“It’s starting to get late,” Maplefur meowed to the cats ahead of them, “and I will need to change Sweetsong’s dressing before we go skipping across the stones.”

“I’m fine,” Sweetsong mowed gamely after rumbling a translation to the two dogs. “They don’t even hurt anymore.”

Maplefur blinked gently at her, “Maybe not, but you’ve bled through the dressing. And I’ve spotted several bugs showing an interest in it. Some of them sting, and some of them like open wounds for very unpleasant reasons.”

The translator shuddered all over and Nightshade made a sound that reminded Maplefur of a stern Deputy, scolding a wounded clanmate for pushing herself too hard. “Apparently I’ve been overruled. Okay, let’s get a new dressing on them.”

There were a few small plants nearby, though certainly not enough to service the whole clan. The plants above the gorge were his main supply, but Maplefur knew that they would do for one she-cat. And he would rather use these than dig into the precious bundles he’d brought along. With no way to know who would be injured or how badly, he knew it was better to err on the side of caution.

Since they were near the new path down into the gorge, everyone stopped for a quick break and to take a drink from the stream before it became unreachable beneath the field of stones. Maplefur changed the Translator’s dressing, which had the added benefit of keeping the insects from smelling blood and showing interest.

Once everyone had had a chance to get a good drink, they continued.

 

.

 

Sweetsong had been watching the patrol as they padded away from camp. Warriors all of them… but also… only toms. She tipped her head thoughtfully. Now that she thought of it, almost every cat she had seen was a tom, save for Rainstar, little Petalkit, and her mother Nightheart.

A hesitant question to the warrior, Hayseed, revealed that her observation was true. She-cats had become rare for Skyclan; most kits born the last few generations were toms. He told her that Rainstar was looking into some ideas for welcoming any interested cats from the twoleg place, but then changed the subject. Sensing that he didn’t want to talk about the worrisome fact that threw Skyclan’s future into serious doubt, she didn’t press him further.

What started out as easy walking alongside the water quickly turned into treacherous footing for the two large dogs. They tried to hurry, anxious as they were about their daughter. But now the floor of the gorge was strewn with rocks, and they were all loose.

Longclaw finally uttered a very bad word in Dog that Sweetsong didn’t bother to translate when a stone pitched sharply beneath his paws and one of his toes got pinched. After that, the two picked their way slowly despite their worries.

“This is where they came down,” Owlstorm, one of the toms finally meowed, tracing the steep path with his eyes. “and collapsing this safely will be a problem. We’ll work on taking care of this. He turned solemnly to the two dogs. “Good hunting. Soon, all three of you will pass us on your way back to camp, eh?”

Longclaw and Nightshade bowed their front ends and wagged their tails before ranging about carefully among the stones, searching for the scent trail.

It wasn’t long before Nightshade suddenly uttered a hard, angry growl.

A drop of blood glistened in the sunlight, and the scent of Nightrun was strong and fresh; only a few hours old. Also strong, was the scent of foxes.

The three warriors traveling with them, Hayseed, Kestrelwing, and Fireleg all shared anxious glances. No translator was needed, for the two parents also shared a very worried glance. Spilled blood and foxes were a terrible combination for anyone.

Maplefur frowned anxiously around the bundle of herbs and cobwebs he carried. “Foxes are dogs, right?”

“Yes, foxes are dogs… sort of,” Longclaw agreed darkly, when Sweetsong translated his question, “But they are not honorable, and always looking for an easy meal.”

No further words were spoken, and somehow, the two dogs were able to stride across the stones with more speed.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few minutes, they heard snarling. A minute or so later and the echoing snarls formed phrases that made Sweetsong’s blood run cold.

“Can’t hide forever! We’ll eat you then! Eat you and the tasty little puppy too!”

Nightshade’s snarl made the three brave warriors stumble, terror on their faces, although she wasn’t threatening them.

The two foxes, who had been jammed against a narrow, vertical crack in the wall of solid stone, whirled with snarls of challenge on their faces. Then they realized their mistake.

The two dogs loomed over the predators: eyes burning, every mighty fang bared, wordless rage rolling up from somewhere deep in their chests.

Quivering, the two foxes shrank into submissive poses and slunk away, bushy tails tucked tightly between their hind legs.

Longclaw’s burning eyes tracked the pair with the promise of terrible violence until they slunk out of sight among the rocks. “If they hurt Nightrun, I will hunt them to the ends of the land.”

“I take it,” Hayseed meowed in a subdued voice, “That our enemies are trapped in that crack in the wall. If the foxes couldn’t get in…”

It was true. Longclaw’s massive shoulders crashed into the stone, but even he could not fight the unforgiving rock that blocked his path. In frustration, he scratched at the stone with his claws. But though they left scratch marks across the surface of the stone, even his great strength couldn’t topple the walls of the gorge.

“Looks like this is where we must part ways.” Kestrelwing meowed. “We will have to take Sweetsong with us to communicate with Nightrun, and Maplefur will be on paw in case anyone gets injured.”

The two dogs looked at one another, then at Sweetsong. “Only you can make that decision. Do you trust these cats?”

The she-cat nodded.

“Then we entrust you with the hunt and quest-end. Bring our daughter back, even if it is only to let us say goodbye.” Nightshade touched each cat’s head with her nose.

The warriors bore it stoically, and then slipped soundlessly into the crack in the wall, one after another.

Maplefur slipped to the left of the entrance once they were through, nodding to the group silently. He seemed to be saying that he would wait for the warriors to do their thing.

Sweetsong gave him a warm glance and then followed the three warriors quietly through the long grass that carpeted the floor of the gorge. This was obviously where the whole thing began. She could scent water here, but didn’t hear it. The walls stretched high and vertical; so far above them that only a claw scratch of sky could be seen. The sun was on its way toward setting, which meant that a kind of twilight settled early in this confined space.

“Something’s wrong,” Kestrelwing muttered, “We should have found them by now.”

There was a sudden rustle, and pink eyes glared hatefully into Sweetsong’s from the shadow of a low bush.

“Attack!” came the screech, and a pale white cat leaped out and swung a paw that collided hard with the side of the translator’s head.

The world went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

The two dogs were on their paws when the warriors squirmed out of the narrow slot of stone. Their ears were perked hopefully, heads were high and tails held erect. They had heard the sounds of the fight and were anxious to find out what was going on. Had it worked? Was it over?

The tentative tail wag that Longclaw had begun, died, and his tail tucked between his hind legs all by itself.

Two of the battered Fighter-cats were dragging a limp, cinnamon tabby form between them while the third guarded their rear. All three had scuffed, torn fur. All three bore severely bleeding scratches. The rear guard limped badly, which kept him from helping his companions carry the drooping form of Sweetsong to the two dogs.

Nightshade gave a high, keening whine and leaped forward, nosing anxiously behind the she-cat’s ears. The two cats set her down as gently as a kit and bowed their heads, refusing to meet the worried gaze of the two parents. The scent of shame and frustration burned Longclaw’s nose.

“She’s alive,” Nightshade told her mate, “See here, someone hit her head. That would have taken her out of the fight quickly. No doubt that was the plan.”

“Where is the Herb-cat?” Longclaw demanded.

The cats did not respond.

They couldn’t, he realized. Sweetsong was unconscious. Without her bringing truth to the Liar’s Tongue, these three cats could not tell him what had happened. A stroke of terrible luck; the loss of Sweetsong’s skills was costing them dearly.

Longclaw paused and thought hard. Then he padded to a scraggly bush, snatched off several leaves and dropped them in a pile to one side of the three cats, marking the empty space where a cat should have been, but was not.

The nearest cat blinked, tipped his head, and then his eyes went wide.

He strode over, picked them up, and carried them to one side of the entrance. There he sat, pretending to sort through them. Then he swung his tail forward to cover his eyes and shook his head.

“Something must have happened. The Herb-cat went to the side to prepare for the fight, and I think that was the last they saw of him.” Longclaw told his mate. “My guess is Nightrun’s captors put him out like the new moon and then ambushed the Fighter-cats, taking out Sweetsong in the process.”

“Now what do we do?” Nightshade whined. She was curled around the Voice like an anxious mother. “The sun sets soon, and now they have both Nightrun and the Herb-cat.”

“The Herb-cat is theirs. They will not let him go without a fight. Let them call together their clan. We can do nothing but wait.” Longclaw lay down with a deep sigh. “We will guard the entrance here. If they try to flee, we will be here.”

 

.

 

Maplefur’s head was pounding so hard that the impact that woke him up barely registered as pain.

“Wake up you stupid lump of fur!” Snarled a strange voice, “I didn’t hit you that hard!”

Mapefur was kicked again, and this time his ribs ached in response. He groaned and tried to lift his head.

“Well now, look what we ‘ave ‘ere!” Sneered a tortoiseshell tom that loomed over him, “A lone kittypet playin’ wi’ plants!”

“Why yes.” A white cat with expressionless pink eyes purred, his voice as smooth as a river stone compared to his companion’s rough accent. “Tell me kittypet, where’s your housefolk? What brings you out into the big, scary gorge alone? And who were those mangy trash eaters?”

“I’m not a kittypet.” Maplefur’s head was spinning unpleasantly, and he feared that the blow to the head had done some serious damage. “I’m Skyclan’s medicine cat, and I’m on a mission of mercy.”

“If I call you a kittypet, then you’re a kittypet! And you’ll purr about it too!”

Maplefur hastily scrambled away from another vicious kick to the ribs.

“Seems to be telling the truth,” Allowed a blue-gray she-cat with mismatched eyes, “He smells a lot like the cats we gave a proper thrashing to.”

They had beaten the patrol? Maplefur felt a stab of fear. Sweetsong was very obviously not a fighter. He prayed to Starclan that she had not been hurt.

“Mission of mercy,” repeated the white cat thoughtfully, and then hissed a nasty laugh, “Oh! He means the little monster we have! Off to rescue the poor little puppy?!”

“Her parents are very worried about her,” The dizziness was subsiding, much to Maplefur’s relief. “They say they’ll treat you fairly if this is just a misunderstanding.”

“They say?” Hooted the tortoiseshell. “They _say?_ Dogs don’t talk! They’re not smart enough! Besides, we’ve ‘ad the little fanged beast long enough to know she doesn’t speak a word. But she certainly responds well to the ‘training’ we’ve been giving her.”

Something cold skittered up the medicine cat’s spine. He didn’t doubt for a minute that the ‘training’ involved a lot of pain. And with a puppy still developing and growing, there was no doubt in his mind that creating a bad image of cats in her mind would mean danger for all cats in the future.

The white cat bared his teeth in a nasty sneer, “Well now Venom, let’s not be too hasty. If he says they can talk, then they can talk. Since he’s so convinced of this, perhaps they can have a nice little ‘talk’ over freshkill.”

Venom, the tortoiseshell, looked annoyed at being corrected, but then curled his lip in a nasty smile at the white cat’s suggestion. “Why of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Come on then ‘Skyclan medicine cat,’ we’ll let you ‘ave a nice, long talk.”

Maplefur tried to dig in his claws, “W-wait! She speaks a different language! She needs a Translator to communicate!”

The gray she-cat simply sank her claws into his flank to goad him toward a hole in the floor of the slot canyon.

“What’s this now? Tell me, tom, were you lying to old Redeye? Is your story changing? Either she can talk, or she can’t. We just want you to prove it!” The white cat’s voice was as silky as a mole’s fur.

“Right! Prove it!” A painful kick to his hind end sent Maplefur stumbling forward. Between one faltering step and the next, the ground disappeared from beneath the gray tabby’s paws and he slipped and skidded down into a deep hole.

The landing was softer than he had feared: a thick cushion of fallen leaves and mulch formed a thick mat that covered the bottom of the hole. He was sure that nothing was broken, or really even sprained. The bottoms of his paws stung from skidding along the hard stone that formed the floor of the tunnel, but otherwise he was fine.

Well… his head still ached unpleasantly, and the place where he had been hit was throbbing, but it no longer controlled all of his attention.

A high, angry growl made his heart freeze.

A tunnel leading farther beneath the ground seemed to exhale a small cloud of dust before the young pup squeezed out and confronted him. She was a bit bigger than he was, heavier by far, but there wasn’t any sign of proper muscles that would show she was anything but a puppy, a long way from home. And she was skinny. She obviously hadn’t eaten much of anything lately, which wasn’t good for any young creature.

Nightrun had several painful looking scratches that seemed to be only partially healed, but she had obviously had the presence of mind to try to keep them clean. The edges of her soft ears, however, had a thin coating of dust and dried blood where she had been clawed and couldn’t reach them.

Her heavy lips were pulled back from her teeth, which were milk white and very sharp. The eyes above the fangs didn’t share the level-headed intelligence of her parents. Instead they were hurting, angry, and pleased. Cats had hurt her, and here was a cat trapped in the hole with no way to escape. She began to close in on him with slow, deliberate steps.

The Rogues hooted and called sarcastic encouragement down to him as he tried to back away and frantically tried to think of a way to stop her without hurting her. She was young, angry and upset by the way she had been treated. He couldn’t blame her for any of it. But he didn’t want to be chewed to pieces either.

His back hit the wall farthest from the puppy in very short order. There was nowhere else to go. His thoughts scrambled for anything; an idea, an inkling, a mouse tail of information that Sweetsong had shared with him.

_“Dogs watch the tail._ ”

Hoping, praying to Starclan, that his memory was correct, Maplefur flattened his fur and tucked his tail between his legs, pressing down into the mulch to make himself smaller.

_“Don’t look them in the eyes, they take it as a challenge.”_

Terrified of losing track of the puppy, but also afraid of triggering a charge, he stared down at the shadow of the young dog that was approaching him.

The pawsteps hesitated, and a flicker of hope crept into his rapidly beating heart.

There was a low grunt that sounded inquiring.

Swallowing to wet his throat, he tried to imitate the gruff way that her name was spoken. His throat closed partway through and he squeaked it in a way that sounded more like a mouse than a dog.

The shadow tilted its head.

He tried again, and managed much better this time.

The flattened ears of the silhouette shot straight up and he risked a quick glance at her face. Her ears were perked so high that the fur at the top of her head had wrinkled like ripples on the surface of a pool. He could have sworn that the fierce eyes looked puzzled.

Drawing in a deeper breath, he growled out Nightshade’s name as best he could.

Nightrun’s eyes shot wide open and she dropped the entire front half of her body to the ground, her hind end high in the air and her tail beginning to make broad arcs through the air. “Merf?”

Taking another breath, he spoke Longclaw’s name.

“Mahn?” she raised a single paw and waved it through the air eagerly.

Maplefur guessed that ‘merf,’ and ‘mahn’ meant ‘mother’ and ‘father’ respectively. He nodded.

The pup went half mad with joy. This strange cat knew her parents’ names! However mangled they sounded from his throat, there was only one way that a complete stranger could learn those words.

Nightrun sprang sideways, skidding in the leaves, then sprang in the other direction. Leaves flew up in all directions in her enthusiasm. Whining happily, she bounded forward. Before he even had a change to react, she licked him from the tip of his nose to the top of his head with her broad, wet tongue.

Very careful not to make a face at her breath, or the sticky feel of drool in his fur, he gave a sigh of relief.

“Well I’ll be,” Venom meowed from above. “it does look like ‘e’s talkin’ with the little beast.”

“Bah!” Redeye spat dismissively, “I once crawled into a bush and chirped at birds to get them to come closer. I wouldn’t call that talking.”

“Still… She’s not attacking him.” The gray she-cat meowed thoughtfully.

“If I say they’re not talking, then they’re not talking, Shadow.” Redeye’s voice suddenly turned cold and cruel. “And if you argue with me about it again, I’ll send you down to ask them personally.”

“N-no! I was just noticing, not arguing.” The she-cat hastily amended herself.

Nightrun nudged Maplefur lightly with her nose, a gesture that nevertheless rocked him a little on his paws. When she had his attention, she padded to the tunnel and looked back at him.

Obediently, he followed, and found himself in a long, black tunnel. Nightrun’s scent was strong in here, but the air was moving and felt clean. Following the sound of fur scraping the tunnel’s edge, he eventually found himself in a large cave. Light filtered down into it from cracks in the earth well above his head. A few tunnels vanished off into darkness. Strange marks marked each entrance.

Coming closer, he realized that they were strange but specific. A paw print marked one tunnel, but then four long scratches raked straight through it.

She stared into the darkness of that tunnel, then lifted her lip to show her teeth and turned away. _A-ha! That must mean that there is no point in going that way!_

“Clever puppy,” he murmured. “You’ve been exploring.”

At her puzzled glance, he wagged his tail to show approval. She answered with a wag of her own and walked to another tunnel. This one was marked with a paw print and four long scratches that traced a downward bending curve. Following this one led to a tunnel with water flowing through it. Looking at him, she bent down and lapped a few times to show that the water was good.

Relieved and eager, he drank his fill, feeling the cold water slide down his dry throat. It tasted like stone and darkness, but it still tasted good. The downward bending curve was shaped like the channel through the cave where the water flowed.

Excitement and interest sparked through him. These markings not only made sense, but were quite inventive. He wondered if Nightrun might have the gift of being able to communicate, like Sweetsong. If so, then she was showing talent the way a kit and an apprentice showed talent for being a medicine cat.

He would have to let her parents know.

The thought sobered him. That the puppy was still here meant that she couldn’t get out. They couldn’t follow the water; he knew it seeped up from under the stones before forming the channel closer to the clan. He didn’t dare trust his chances to that route.

Unaware of his sobering thoughts, Nightrun bounded to a tunnel that hadn’t been marked yet. Looking back at him, he could have sworn he saw her eyes sparkle. Uttering a soft “whuff” she nodded toward the dark tunnel.

Curious, he followed. The tunnel wound through darkness and dim light until it tightened down to a crack through the rock. There was an exit! But it was small. Too small for the puppy to get out.

She even showed him by trying to wriggle forward, but even in the dim light, he could see that her shoulders were too broad. The soil walls were scored with claw marks and there was evidence of her trying to dig her way out. There was also, he saw, evidence of a small cave in.

The risks had proven too high, and she had been forced to stop.

Maplefur crept forward. It was barely a rabbit hole in size, but if he moved slowly and carefully, he might be able to squeeze out.

Nightrun’s eyes were luminous points of fire. Another “whuff” and she sidled sideways so that he could come closer to it.

A strong breeze blew on his fur, bringing the scent of warm stone and plant life. Cautiously, he squeezed through. And though his fur scraped against the stone, he was able to go where her just slightly larger frame could not.

He heard a soft thump and a soft whine. He turned back and saw her sitting morosely on the stone, staring into the darkness after him.

He swallowed. She was young, still a kit by her people’s standards. But she had a trace of the same honor and nobility that her parents showed; she knew he could lead her parents here, even if she didn’t know whether he **would** , she was trusting him.

_Dogs really aren’t as different from cats as you would think. Some things are the exact opposite, but others are easy._

He squeezed out and reared up just a bit to touch his nose her hers. Then he lifted his head and puffed out his chest, looking as confident as he could. He wagged his tail to her, and her expression perked a little. He padded to the hole, glanced back at her and gave his tail a final wag.

“I’ll be back,” he murmured his promise into the echoing darkness, “and I’ll bring friends to help rescue you.”

Although she couldn’t understand the words, her tail swept across the cold, stony floor as he faded into the darkness beyond her line of sight.

It was a good thing he was Skyclan, Maplefur decided a few minutes later. No other cats could do this crazy climb. The tunnel had grown steeply sloped before it ended in a straight vertical shaft lined with roughly broken shelves just barely wide enough to jam a paw onto. Making sure each paw hold was secure, he shimmied up the shaft and into fading daylight.

A quick look around showed that he was still within sight of Skyclan territory, and he set out at a full run.

He came back to find the camp in disorder. Whitebirch was speaking in dark angry tones to several powerful warriors. It was difficult to make out, but Maplefur thought he caught the words ‘revenge,’ and ‘show no mercy.’

“Wait!” he cried, “Wait! There’s another way!”

“Maplefur!” Rainstar cried in relief, “You’re alive!”

For a long moment, Maplefur couldn’t be heard over the relieved clamor of his clanmates. Through jumbled accounts, he learned that the patrol had been ambushed and that Sweetsong was still unconscious, protected by the two dogs. Many cats thought he had been killed, and had been openly discussing a vicious counterattack.

“One at a time!” Whitebirch finally yowled, “Now Maplefur, what’s this about there being another way?”

The medicine cat recounted the hidden tunnel that he had climbed, and its stealthy path into the gorge.

“Nightrun is guarding it; the Rogues can’t get in without having to face her, but she can’t get out the way I did. But if a full patrol can make it into the gorge this way, I think we can catch them by surprise.” Maplefur finished.

“Then let’s not waste any time. Her parents are counting on us to help them get their daughter back. Lead on, Maplefur.”


	9. Chapter 9

The sun had set. The caves were nearly pitch black. And Nightrun lay in the dark with her head on her paws. Hunger cramped her belly, loneliness and boredom stalked her mind. If the strange Herb-Smelling Cat was going to come back tonight, he had to do it soon.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, there was a soft clatter as a pebble skittered across the stone floor.

" _Neighrum?_ " Came the soft hiss.

The pronunciation was still terrible, but she welcomed it with a vigorously wagging tail. A soft whuff of affirmative sent several lithe shadows spilling into the space around her, the almost blackness quenching the glow of eyes to the faintest of glitters.

One pair of eyes approached her, and the herb scent flooded her nose.

The eyes of strangers were all fixed on her, and then, one by one, lowered themselves until they nearly touched the floor. The herb-smelling cat was the last to lower himself before her.

Nightrun's breath caught. Friends! All of these cats were coming down here for her! And they knew that she could lead them to the cave.

With an excited little dance, she padded to the tunnel and glanced back. One by one, the pairs of eyes slid into position.

Paws made no sound on the stone. Even the faint hush of fur on stone walls seemed muted as she led them through the twisting tunnels to the hole that was both her prison and her salvation. Clean air blew inward and several silhouettes were lit by the watery moonlight that spilled down into the tunnel.

The cats muttered and whispered to one another in their strange voices. Nightrun waited. The whispering grew determined. And then… then suddenly they flowed up the tunnel, making almost no sound as they sprinted to the surface.

The night was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Then a cat screeched in rage, and the sounds of fighting echoed down to them. Nightrun scrambled up the tunnel, claws slipping and scraping in her haste.

As quickly as she moved, it was already over by the time she and the herb smelling cat had climbed out of the earth. Her three tormentors were already in full flight, racing off to the crack in the gorge wall with a few warriors snarling in hot pursuit. Two more turned back and stood before her, eyes gleaming with pride.

Puffing their chests out, they turned and padded away a few steps, then turned to look back at her. She dipped her head and obeyed. Their pace was calm but quick, and she kept up easily. It took only a few heartbeats for the gorge wall to loom overhead, split by the narrow crack that led back outside.

They were going back?

Nightrun hesitated and sniffed warily, but there were no sounds of enraged snarling on the other side. The fox scent was stale.

One of the cats carefully squeezed into the tight confines, glancing back at her again. Darkness enfolded her as the moon was blotted out by unforgiving stone. The only light was the watery silver light ahead, and her fur scraped uncomfortably against the stone. She hadn't paid attention the first time through; she'd been motivated by fear and the need to get away from the foxes. Having been in the caves, she was acutely aware that the crack was really quite small, and she needed to wriggle a time or two to get past a few tight spots.

Then suddenly she was in the open. Cool moonlight spilled on her fur, and a fresh breeze filled her lungs with the scents of Friendly Cats, water and stone.

There was a sound; the scraping of claws on rock and she turned to see a massive, muscular shape rise from the shadows and pad forward to meet her.

Her eyes flashed wide as she recognized the broad muzzle and pricked ears of her father. With an eager whine, she launched herself at him, her tail wagging so hard that her hind legs could barely support her.

There was a soft bark, and her mother unwound herself from a lump of cinnamon tabby fur to sniff and lick anxiously at her pelt.

The joy was so great that it was almost painful as Nightrun did everything she could to wind herself around both parents at once. The scents of cold stone and dark water, the pain and the loneliness melted away as Nightshade tenderly bathed Nightrun's scratches with her soft tongue and her father pressed his muzzle warmly against her ribs.

By the time she had calmed down enough to remember that they were still in cat territory, the moon had inched its way across the sky and was nearing its peak.

To her relief, no scent of annoyance or impatience wafted from the line of cats that watched the three dogs interact. Their eyes shone and soft rumbles rolled from their throats. Not a growl, but like a growl.

"It's called a purr," her mother murmured into her ear. "They're very happy that we were able to rejoin as a family again."

"Then I must thank them!" Her heart squeezed briefly as she stepped away from her mother and padded toward the line of waiting cats. With a soft, appreciative whine, Nightrun bowed down until her chin rested on the earth beneath her paws. "Thank you!" she whuffed. "Thank you so much!"

One or two cats blinked, but the rest nodded in clear understanding and purred harder.

"Herb cat," Longclaw rumbled, "we need you to look at our Voice."

Nightrun whipped around and blinked at the cinnamon tabby lump that her mother had unwound herself from. It was a she-cat, and she was laying very still. There was a scent of wrongness wafting from her fur.

The Herb cat wasn't reacting. Of course! He didn't understand!

Nightrun padded up to him and whined.

He blinked and meowed back in his strange tongue. He paused, and then growled awkwardly " _Neighrum?_ "

She padded a few steps toward the sad lump of fur and turned back, giving him wide eyes and a long, anxious whine before closing the distance between herself and the little she-cat.

He straightened, sucked in a sharp breath and charged, racing across the stone to the unconscious cat's side. The Herb cat inspected her slowly and carefully and then muttered anxiously about her head. There was no mistaking the deep frown on his muzzle and the way his whiskers flattened against his face.

Half a heartbeat later he all but barked at the other cats in a commanding tone. And they reacted immediately, sprinting off into the darkness.

Nightrun sniffed the she-cat carefully, while Longclaw explained in a low voice that this she-cat was the Voice, and had been helping her parents in their search.

By the time the other cats came sprinting back with their mouths full of herbal plants, Nightrun was just as anxious as her parents to see the brave, kind she-cat get well again.

There was a wrongness about Sweetsong's head that kept dragging her nose to it. She whined anxiously to the Herb Cat and sniffed persistently at the wrongness. He nodded back.

He delicately ran his paw over her head, and then made a soft, anxious sound as well.

It was difficult to back up to give him space, but back up she did, as the Herbcat went to work; prying Sweetsong's mouth open, forcing herbs in, stroking her throat to make her swallow..

Then there was a low groan and a cough.

"Oh," came the soft, clear voice in dog language, "That tastes  _terrible_."

.

Sweetsong rose out of the darkness slowly. The word swam around her like eddies in a stream, and her head hurt so badly that it felt like her skull was going to crack into two halves like a nut.

"Don't try to move." Came Maplefur's warm mew, laced with deep concern. "When they hit you and knocked you out, you hit the other side of your head on a rock. You were very lucky; they were just short of cracking your skull. And all the medicine cats in the world couldn't rescue you from that."

"Izzat why I can't con..con…sen…"

"Yes, you'll have a very hard time concentrating for a while. Please don't try to speak. We've got Nightrun back, and everyone just wants you to get better."

For some reason, his words comforted her, though she was having a very hard time comprehending them. So she gave up and simply lay, watching through hazy eyes as Maplefur gently licked juice into a cut on her head. She obeyed his orders, eating the bitter herbs when he placed them in front of her.

Two toms came forward to support her as she tried to get to her feet, but the world lurched and spun so hard that she sat down immediately.

"I will carry you." Came Longclaw's voice.

And then the word lurched and plunged again as his great jaws closed oh-so-delicately around her middle and lifted her clear off the ground.

The trip to the clan's camp was the worst trip she had ever endured; topping even the terrible trip through the underground monster's lair where it almost killed her. By the time she was carefully slid into a small cave and into a nest, some of the sickness and pain had faded. But her thoughts were still hazy and wouldn't connect properly. Maplefur fussed, which was kind of nice, but she also felt incredibly sleepy; he started alternating between bullying and cajoling her into staying awake despite the lateness of the hour.

Her head wound, it seemed, could kill her if she went to sleep. Wearily, she resigned herself to staying awake though the night. He fed her herbs, and talked to her; asking questions about her past and her duties as a Translator.

Answering him was strangely difficult. She had never had such a hard time stringing words together, and sometimes she slipped into the Dog Language right in the middle of a sentence. By the time he finally deemed that it was safe for the exhausted she-cat to sleep, the darkness was lifting outside the medicine cat's den.

Gratefully, she sank into a deep, healing sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

A quarter moon passed. The three dogs took up temporary residence in the clan camp, ranging beyond the clan’s borders to hunt. Longclaw and Nightshade’s long legs allowed them to travel long distances in just minutes, while it took the clan cats hours to complete the same trek.

“We are guests here,” Longclaw explained through Sweetsong, “it would be rude of us to take prey from the clan, when we can get food for ourselves outside of your borders. And we must teach Nightrun how to hunt. It would do no good to have her trip over a Fighter-Cat during her first days of hunting.”

As her concussion healed, Sweetsong began to move about with the clan. Maplefur himself took great pleasure in talking walks with her. Learning about herbs always seemed to fall second to simply being with him, and her heart ached even more at the thought of returning to the clan of dogs and cats.

But she had taken an oath to stand by the truth, and that meant she couldn’t lie to herself either. She couldn’t stay with him, however much she wanted to. She had taken up this mission and had to follow it through to the end. There would be a meeting of the clans, and as the witness to the whole deal, it was her responsibility to explain to both sides what had happened.

There was also the fact that the cats who had attacked Nightrun were still on the loose. They were going to pay for their crimes, and that was something Sweetsong didn’t want to think about either.

_Punishments shall not exceed the crime while the victim yet lives._ Said the Laws of Peace… But they also said, _The Laws Of Peace do not apply to those who reject them._

“Sweetsong.”

The she-cat looked up at Nightshade, her heart sinking as she realized what time it must be.

“I am sorry.” Indeed, the she-dog looked very apologetic, her brown eyes flicking toward Maplefur’s den with the most sorrowful expression she had ever seen on the muzzle of a dog, “I know how happy the Herb Cat has made you. And we owe him more than we can ever repay for the clan’s… and his... kindness. But your injuries have healed, and Nightrun has fully recovered. We must finish this hunt. Please ask the Star Alpha to call the cats together. It is time to say goodbye.”

It was happening too quickly. The clan gathered right away and Maplefur was one of the first to sit at the feet of the three dogs. His eyes stared into Sweetsong’s with an expression of loss so deep, it felt as though the world would drop out from beneath her paws.

“Clan of the Sky, thank you.” Longclaw bowed his head respectfully to the assembled cats. “You have helped us get our daughter back, you have been generous in sharing your territory, and you have helped our wounded heal.” His eyes flicked to Nightrun, whose scratches had almost fully healed and at Sweetsong, whose head no longer spun or throbbed with pain. “You live far from our home, yet if your clan members ever travel, know that you can count at least three dogs as your friends. It is time for us to return home.”

Rainstar purred kindly, “We are glad to have been able to help. Skyclan knows how important kits are to the future of any clan.” Her whiskers drooped momentarily as she glanced over her toms, who shuffled uncomfortably. “We wish you safe travels back to your home. My warriors tell me the three rogues fled past them, up the dangerous path out of the gorge. They triggered a rock fall, so the route into our territory is now destroyed. We scented them heading toward the twoleg place. I don’t know if their path stayed straight, but you might find something in that direction.”

Longclaw’s eyes flared hungrily to life and he nodded solemnly to her in gratitude. Although impatient to be gone, he paused to wait as the cats of Skyclan bid Sweetsong goodbye. There were even a few who mewed farewell to the three dogs.

Maplefur was the last to say his goodbyes, though he seemed at a complete loss for words. Finally, he simply pressed his muzzle against Sweetsong’s shoulder and she leaned against him for the last time.

“Dream of me whenever you can,” she meowed thickly, “We… we may never meet again, but I want your kits to know their father still thinks of them.”

Maplefur’s face showed no surprise; he was a Medicine cat after all, and he knew when a she-cat was expecting. He simply he leaned harder against her. “All of Starclan cannot keep me away. Are you sure it’s... all right?”

“Translators are very well cared for. They will not keep me from my duties, and even when nursing them, there is another who can take up any slack in my duties. Maplefur… I won’t forget you, ever. When you visit in our dreams, I’ll be sure to tell you their names.” The she-cat drank in the sight and scent of the medicine cat before slowly, reluctantly, pulling away and following the trio of dogs who waited patiently for her to catch up.

Nothing was said as she climbed onto Longclaw’s back, and she was grateful for their understanding. Words of comfort wouldn’t help, and if they had tried, it might have broken her resolve to do what she had to do. They passed the border and continued beyond into the open fields without stopping; pausing only to allow Nightshade to briefly visit another nightshade plant for her claws.

The scent trail was a quarter moon old by now; impossible even for the dogs to follow, but still they trotted along the rim of the gorge to the place where the dangerous path had risen from the gorge floor. It had indeed collapsed, and the pile of rubble far below guaranteed that no cat or dog could use this way again.

After casting about hopelessly for a scent, Longclaw snorted and turned to lead his family back toward the twoleg place where the cats would have fled. If they had dared to return to the two clans, there wouldn’t be a cat or dog alive who would give them shelter once word got around.

The end of the first day, however, was a blessing. Cats couldn’t travel as fast or as far as a dog. And these cats didn’t know they were still being pursued. The scent trail faded back into existence, and grew stronger by the hour.

Longclaw growled deep in his chest. The sun was sinking, and he finally had a scent trail to follow. But Nightrun was still young. Although she was putting on a growth spurt, and her muscles were gaining strength, she had flopped down and was panting heavily. The determination in her brown eyes told Sweetsong exactly why the pup hadn’t complained at the hard run she had endured today. Longclaw gave his daughter an apologetic glance and let Sweetsong slide off his back while he and his mate hunted.

His heavy black lips lifted from his fangs in silent menace.

_Tomorrow._

 

.

 

The day dawned with dark clouds rolling across the sky, turning the air sticky and heavy with moisture. The smell of ozone warned that this would be the summer storm to end the dry season. And three very dangerous beasts were on the prowl today. Not every growl that rolled through the heavy air was thunder. Not that the three Rogues knew that.

“Curse this place, and curse you too Redeye! Where did all your planning get us?! We turned cats against us, and we lost that little monster to boot.” Shadow spat.

“Open your mouth one more time, and I’ll shut you up myself.” Redeye whipped around to snarl at her.

“Oh please do try,” the she-cat wasn’t backing down. “I’ve listened to you long enough, and everything that comes out of your mouth is stupid or gets us into more trouble than it’s worth.”

Redeye began to close in on her, his pink eyes narrowed threateningly, “You’d better say that you’re sorry. Right. Now. I am not a cat to be trifled with. If you ever want to sleep again, apologize and promise to do what I tell you without question.”

“How about I tell you where to shove your demands, Redeye!”

“Look out!” Venom screeched.

The argument forgotten instantly, Shadow and Redeye whipped around as the shadows parted to reveal a monstrous dog. The beast had moved in complete silence. No barking, twig snapping or crashing of undergrowth had warned of his appearance. Brown eyes were locked on the three cats.

“Back!” Redeye hissed. “Back up. We’ll just lose it in the undergrowth.”

“There’s ‘nother one!” Venom spat, his voice rising a pitch in fear.

And indeed, another dog had melted out of the shadows from the opposite direction, her claws gleaming with something sticky and wet. She too hadn’t made a sound, despite the ground being covered in twigs and mulch.

“Okay, okay, let’s just-“

“There’s a third one!” Shadow hissed, “It’s smaller though. Wait... that one looks familiar.”

The third dog was smaller, but its hackles were lifted and its head lowered in a clear threat.

The shadows moved one final time… and from the fourth direction, a cinnamon tabby she-cat padded into sight, her expression perfectly calm in the face of the situation.

One of the big dogs growled.

“Longclaw wants to know why you stole Nightrun from their home.” The she-cat meowed.

Redeye stared, then threw his head back and laughed, “How many of you flea brained hairballs are there? Dogs don’t talk! You and that ridiculous hairball back at the gorge!”

“Longclaw, please raise your right paw.” The cinnamon tabby meowed, and then made a few short rumbling sounds that sounded far too deep for such a small set of lungs.

One of the beasts raised his right paw and held it steady with great dignity.

“Thank you. You may put it down now.” A few low barks.

The paw sank to the ground.

“Nightshade, would you please turn to your left three times?” More odd grunts and barks.

The other large dog began to turn, as though beating down grass for a nest. At the third turn, the dog stopped, and her eyes once again fixed on the cats.

“Finally, Nightrun, would you please demonstrate a border challenge?”

The smallest dog stamped both feet on the ground with a heavy thud that dipped her whole front end in an almost bow, but she surged back upright almost immediately and uttered three loud barks that made the cats bristle in terror.

“Now. Answer the question; why did you take Nightrun from her parents?”

Redeye blinked and then curled his tail around his paws as though he was having a lovely little chat. “Well now, we wanted the little beast as our own. If we got a dog early enough, I thought, we could train it to obey us, the way you’ve trained your beasts.”

The she-cat’s fur fluffed, “They are not trained; they are my partners. We are all equals.”

“Sure, sure. And I’ll sprout eagle wings and fly.” Redeye gave his head a little shake as though dislodging a fly. “Well, the little beast that we got was learning to fear us properly, and we thought if we got it obedient enough, we could use it to deal with intruders in our own territory. We thought that gorge would do nicely.”

The she-cat’s face filled with disgust and she began growling strings of words in the dog language.

The three dogs went still as stones.

Then the biggest beast, Longclaw, widened his eyes and stared incredulously down at the three cats, his massive jaws parting as he gaped down at them.

He made a soft, breathy rumble, eyes flicking to the she-cat.

“No. The red-eyed cat is not joking.” The cinnamon tabby replied after a few grunts in return.

The second dog, Nightshade took a step forward, eyes burning, body held in a position remarkably like a cat stalking prey.

She growled, slow and menacing, punctuating every word.

“And it never occurred to you that her parents would have a problem with their daughter being taken by force? That smelling the blood of a puppy would make the parents angry?” The she-cat translated.

Redeye snorted, “Dogs are stupid. Every cat knows that.”

“And so are you!” Shadow snarled, whipping around and lashing out with her claws at the arrogant tom. “I’ve had enough of your insane ideas and stupidity. You don’t even have a clue about the danger we’re in **right now** , and now you’re insulting dogs to their faces! No more! No more I say!”

Redeye whipped around with a snarl, but Shadow darted out of reach and stormed off to the side and sat down, her back turned on her former leader. She didn’t quite leave since she was blocked by Nightrun, who gave a low, warning growl. She gave the puppy a wary glance, then began washing her tail in short, irritated strokes.

As growls rumbled from the throat of the small cat, pointed ears flicked and gleaming brown eyes narrowed. Then the she-dog spoke.

“White Cat of the Red Eyes, we find you at full fault for the kidnapping and torture of a puppy, as well as the attempted murder of the Herb Cat, who had done you no wrong. You injured our Voice so severely that you nearly killed her as well. You have acted in a way that has sent deep ripples in the lives of our family, and you have proven yourself beyond the protection of the Laws of Peace. I sentence you to the will of Nightshade.

Her paw flashed out, too quick to follow, and slammed into Redeye’s side. He tumbled several times before staggering to his feet.

“Is that the best you can do? Your wounds don’t even hurt!” he glanced at the four deep puncture marks that bled freely; staining red trails through his white fur. “In fact, these injuries won’t even bleed for long! I…I feel…warm…” Confusion clouded his eyes as he stared at this side. “Ah... cold… it’s getting cold… I…” his legs collapsed suddenly beneath him. “Ish too bright! I can’t shee! Wha… wha dish hyew do to mee?”

As his voice trailed away into weak whimpering, Longclaw took a step forward and glowered down at a horrified and trembling Venom, “You aided that cat in his crimes. You have shown no guilt or regret. Nightrun told me in detail how you took pleasure in hurting her at the direction of the White Cat. She said you especially favored her ears.”

“Wha… wait, I…” Longclaw’s teeth flashed white and sharp in the dimming light as thunder growled overhead. Pinning the terrified tortoiseshell down, the large dog savaged both of the cat’s ears until they were tattered, raking claws over his flanks and shaking the tom about until he was too dizzy to stand before finally allowing him to collapse in pain.

“You obeyed your Alpha without hesitation and have no regret for having caused pain. I sentence you to some pain of your own, in the dim hope that you learn your lesson by suffering as my daughter did. Hope that your wounds do not get infected, little puppy thief. Hope that you live through this, just as Nightrun hoped that she would live through her own torment at your claws.”

Venom lay panting, pain etched on his face, but also surprise that the dog had not simply snapped his neck.

Longclaw turned to glower down at the she-cat, who flinched but did not try to escape.

“Shadow, you obeyed your alpha, caused pain and are guilty of nearly everything that your pack members did.” The gray and white she-cat swallowed and shivered, hunching lower under the big dog’s accusations. “You did not share your prey with her, and she starved for several days. You showed no she-instincts toward a young creature in pain and fear. Your one saving grace is that you chose to disassociate yourself with the White Cat, but even then only when you realized the danger he had truly put you in. Your regret comes late, and has very little value.”

Shadow simply closed her eyes, “Get on with it then. There is little I can say to make up for what I did.”

Teeth flashed and she gasped in pain as Longclaw tore through her ears and nipped her painfully about the flanks and tail. Then he shook her until she was too rattled to do more than stagger sideways and collapse.

“You too, had best hope that your injuries do not become infected. I sentence you to the same pain you caused my daughter. I spare you hunger only because I do not share your streak of cruelty. There is an old saying among my people: ‘change only comes with effort.’ I suggest you make that effort. You may even like the cat you become, if the change you make is for the better.” Longclaw fixed both cats with long glares until both dropped their eyes.

Nightshade sniffed the still, white form that lay in the shadows before turning away. “The will of the Nightshade has spoken.”

Nightrun, who had watched her parents dole out punishment without comment, finally trotted forward and pressed herself against her mother’s side. “Is our hunt over?”

“Yes, little one. Our hunt is over. It’s time to return home. All that’s left is the telling of our hunt, and reporting the conclusion.” Nightshade tenderly licked her daughter’s ears. “I heard from the Herb Cat that you were quite good at communicating with him down in the dark den in the gorge. When you are a bit older, perhaps you would like to become a Voice?”

“I would love to be mentor to a bright young pupil like you.” Sweetsong said warmly.

A tiny flinch showed in the pup’s eyes, but then her gaze turned to the cinnamon tabby who had hunted just as hard as her parents and had worked tirelessly to help bring her back. Her tail gave a small, half wag. “Let me think about it. I just want to return home for now.”

Sweetsong purred and hopped onto Longclaw’s back, “Well then let’s get going!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I have another story in the works for Skyclan; I left the need for she-cats unresolved for just this reason! I hope to see you in the next story, though it may be a bit darker and a bit more mature than my usual fare. Until next time!
> 
>  
> 
> Laws Of Peace
> 
> The Laws Of Peace do not apply to those who reject them.  
> Kits and pups are not prey; they are the future. Protect them at all costs.  
> If there is a problem, call upon a Translator/Voice to avoid mistakes.  
> Translators must be straightforward and honest, even in the Liar’s Tongue (language of cats), for they are the bridge that holds the Laws of Peace together.  
> Know the boundaries, and do not hunt outside of your own.  
> It is the responsibility of the strong to protect the weak.  
> Punishments shall not exceed the crime while the victim yet lives. Should the victim die, it is the right of the victim’s family to decide the fate of the criminal.  
> Death is for the unrepentant who are a danger to all.


End file.
